"From Lennoxville to Cowansville is 15 miles" -Tales of a Traveling Musician

Those of you with a good map will realize that the title of this post is off by a good distance. It's merely my take on the famous Alan Squire poem "From Wilverton to Wolverton (is 15 miles)". Squire was a traveling poet (a brief vignette of the master appears above) who's style of free association back in the 1940's paved the way for Ginsburg, Ferlinghetti, and myself. I too will be traveling the next couple of days to points east not to spread the written word but rather to introduce a whole new generation of teenagers to the wonders of the orchestra. 7 school concerts in 2 and a half days is a nice chunk of work and it's importance can't be overrated. Industry analysts contend that providing a positive orchestral experience for today's youth pays big dividends for all concerned. Not in the much cherished potential for a new audience (let's get serious here...this is probably the only live orchestra they'll ever see!) but in a general spirit of good will. The kids get to miss one or two classes and in return one day we musicians may get spared a beating by roving gang members simply by flashing an oboe or any other of the so called "gay" instruments.
While I enjoy the romance of the troubador lifestyle it does mean that I won't be able to Blob for at least a couple of days. This trip is following closely on the heels of Thanksgiving which itself followed Succoth. "What" you may ask "is a succoth??" and who could blame you. Succoth is the Jewish harvest festival which commemorates the annual pilgrimage to the holy temple in Jerusalem where all Jews were obliged to tithe with a percentage of their bounteous harvest and partake heartily in the feast as well.
"...and though shalt remove from thy grainery a portion and carry it thereof, along with all manner of beast and fowl and make thee a route to Yerushalaim and giveth thee of thy harvest. Shouldst the journey be of length then build thee a Succah of lintelwood for shelter and bed thee therein and admonish not thy neighbour should he overindulge and gorge himself in my bounty for I am the lord God and I say unto thee; Let he who is without chins throw the first scone." Eccl. 4:15
Bottom line; a lot of cooking and eating has gone on in the past few days and precious little blogging. Seeing as I'll be out of commission for a while here are a couple of clips to help you pass the time. 1st up is Art Metrano who back in my youth had an entire generation copying his act http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_-SNrvHdZJE followed by Brother Theodore, http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V9OXF3REb7U a curmudgeon who makes noted misanthrope Mikexxxster look like the blessed St. Barnabas himself! A little Norwegian history finishes off the triptych; http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pQHX-SjgQvQ&mode=related&search= See you soon.

Naughty Maria

Blobby, you filthy smut-peddler. I didn't know you could be such a sell-out! Did my story teach you nothing? You must not give your readers, faithful as they are, everything that they ask for. BHB! ....... have you got any priest-on-priest videos?

I addressed Maria's concerns in the comment section and mentioned the unfortunate absence of gay priest videos on the net. I did manage to find a little something that she may find suitable. Maria, a psychologist friend of mine says that women who fantasize about gay priests tend to be a tad cautious about men as GP's are the safest, most non-threatening guys ever!! Any thoughts? comments?

BTW, WTF does BHB mean??

The Road to the Stanley Cup - Hockey's Holy Grail

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When Nuns Go Bad

Italian Archbishop Closes Convent After Nuns Come to Blows

Sep 30 02:53 PM US/Eastern

A convent in southern Italy is being shut down after a quarrel among its last three remaining nuns ended in blows, press reports said Sunday.
Sisters Annamaria and Gianbattista, reportedly upset about their mother superior's authoritarian ways, scratched her in the face and threw her to the ground at Santa Clara convent near Bari in an incident in July that was kept quiet until now.

This story is appealing on many levels: the irony,the power struggle, the cat fighting by sexually repressed women but it came as no surprise to those familiar with the goings on at the now infamous convent. My sources in Bari tell me that rumors of debauchery have been swirling for years with tales of drinking, smoking, gambling on dog fights and even the creation of a paramilitary wing by the paranoid Mother superior.

Locals have pleaded with Archbishop Giovanni Battista Pichierri to keep the convent open. "Not much happens in Bari" said greengrocer Alvaro Vizzutti, "the nuns and their lewd ways give us something to talk about and they're good for business. Just last week Sister Antonia came in and ordered 120 bananas. I told her it's actually cheaper to order 144 and she says ``I guess we can always eat the other 24`` It doesn't get any better than that!!"

Alvaro also mentioned that he made 1000 lira at the weekly dog fight that the sisters operate. "They are very crafty" said constable Giuseppe Pandolfo, "The cat fights are one thing but these dog fights are always staged as a kind of parable, good vs. evil, the eternal struggle for our souls. Yes, there is gambling but the money is used for good which is not unlike the game of bingo in American churches, no?"

There is already talk that the World Wrestling Federation

has offered the sisters a contract but at press time this is yet to be confirmed. Reports from Hollywood suggest that the heady mix of religion and violence is the next potential project for well known Cathoholic Mel Gibson. Should he win an oscar it would be a magnificent tale of redemption after a dismal fall from grace. Jerry Bruckheimer is said to be interested in acquiring the rights.

If you Need me I'll be Locked in my House for th Rest of my Life

6 Die From Brain-eating Amoeba After Swimming
Rare organism that lives in lakes entered victims’ bodies through the nose

PHOENIX - It sounds like science fiction but it’s true: A killer amoeba living in lakes enters the body through the nose and attacks the brain where it feeds until you die......

Algal blooms, fecal coliform, and now this. The simple pleasures of my youth are being picked off one by one as though God were some crazed sniper with a vengeance/persecution complex. Sure we are in the process of destroying the very planet that he so carefully crafted (although it only took him 6 friggin' days....out of all eternity!!) but he also carefully crafted us so God, if I may be so bold....maybe it's time to take a good look in the mirror.

I'm not a seer or a prognosticator nor do I have a crystal ball but if I did this is what I'd see as I look towards a less than promising future:

• An overheated, over-populated planet



• An Arctic region exploited for it's natural resources, it's indigenous peoples allowed to die off from alcoholism, diabetes, and a host of other illnesses



• At least 5 more babies for Britney Spears



• A world where most people in the West literally plug themselves into their home entertainment/computer systems possibly under the influence of genetically engineered opiates.


• At least 27 new Ben and Jerry's flavors including something called Phil Spector's "Wall of Fudge"


• The end of social interaction as we know it today, except of course for the roiling underclasses who will continue to replicate in large numbers.
  

I hope this isn't too alarmist but it's probably a good time to start preparing for the worst. I was going to include the eventual return of a virulent strain of VS (Venereal Squirrels) but the latest New England Journal of Medicine reports that the future is now!! The scourge of the early 19th century has returned with a vengeance and the CDC is recommending abstaining from outdoor sex or (if it is an absolute must) the use of a flexible lucite shield as pictured below.

If you are experiencing a gnawing or burrowing sensation in the genital area, find nuts and seeds stashed in folds or crevices and hear nondescript chattering then present yourself to a healthcare specialist immediately!! Early treatment is almost always successful and involves a combination of powerful antibiotics and laser. If left too long the venereal squirrels will have a chance to reproduce and at that point it's pretty much game over!

and Silence at the Close......

As many of you may now know, the legendary mime Marcel Marceau is no more. He did much to advance his art and his classics; walking against the wind, tug of war, eating an apple, and trapped in a box etc. will live on forever. As a fitting tribute I will say no more but instead will make mournful gestures with my hands and eyebrows.

While I have your attention it appears that I and some regular Blobophiles may have hurt the very prolific contributor Mikexxxster's feelings....how else to explain his prolonged and unusual absence? I'm thinking about reworking the recent book cover (Sexual Politics in the Modern Era) to better conceal his identity and would appreciate some input. Think of it as kind of a mini referendum. What say you???

Dutch for Kids (warning: may not be suitable for children)

We've all done it...misunderstood song lyrics, sometimes for years, until we learn better. I thought Handel's "Comfort Ye" was " Come for Tea" for instance and you can feel free to tell me about your similar mistakes. In fact there's a website devoted to this very thing http://www.kissthisguy.com/funny.php which is worth taking a look at.
The clip above, that I was fortunate enough to find, takes this concept and runs with it: A Dutch kid's show with a happy little song that has been phonetically interpreted and sub-titled in English more or less accurately a la "Mad Gabs" (that game where you have to figure out that "into rachel mayor ridge" means "inter-racial marriage" for lack of a better example). Please watch with an open mind...I will not be apologizing.

Be the First Kid on Your Block!!

Dixxx said...
Is that supposed to be a Donald Trump doll Mike is holding on the book cover? If so where can I get one?

Interesting that you should ask that question Dixxx. I guess you noticed the family resemblance because that is in fact the Ivanka, modeled after Trump's daughter. A "Donald" version (prototype pictured here with lifelike wig and matching pubis) is only days away from hitting the assembly line in Sri Lanka. I should warn you that child labor is involved but Mr. Trump insists that only such small and delicate fingers can assure the quality hair weaving needed for a lifelike love doll. The Blob is acting as middle man so I'll put your name on the reservation list. In just a few weeks you'll once again be the envy of pathetic, lonely, closeted, men everywhere!!

Some Women Scorned

The modern woman, or "neo woman" works first and foremost for herself......we're women and you can't live without us!"- Felicity Muffet

For those of you who haven't checked the comment section let me debrief you (said the vicar to the altar boy). A male contributor pined for the good ol' days when women were subservient and compliant sexual partners and men could focus solely on their own pleasure. This prompted several letters of protest and these women, true to their 21st century nature (red, in tooth and claw) fought back with noticeable ferocity.

Since the dawn of time men have been trying in vain to win the battle of the sexes. Indeed it can be reasonably argued that the great monotheistic religions in their original orthodox manifestations have "keeping women in their place" as one of their main raisons d'etre.

In it's essence this is a classic supply and demand situation much like today's oil crisis. The Arab states have us over a proverbial barrel because of our dependence on them for our fuel needs.

Men need vaginas and women have them...it's as simple as that. Sure there are prostitutes but they can be a health risk not to mention the expense. Men by and large aren't that bright and fool themselves into believing that sex with a woman in a relationship is free. This of course is a laughable delusion that we are prepared to overlook every time some gland shoots a miniscule drop of "I'm horny" hormone into our bloodstream. For all the talk of "the weaker sex" vagina power can bring down empires and cause powerful dictators to whimper and beg like babies.

Despite Felicity Muffet's jackboot approach to sexual politics I like to think that it's best to leave antagonism out of the bedroom. Yin and Yang or balance is the obvious solution. Over the course of a few liaisons the giving and taking should just about even out or there will be trouble ahead. (I guess that goes for housework too) This trouble can take so many forms that I won't bother to bore you with the list but John Wayne Bobbit would have done well to heed my advice.

In lieu of balance I've found that living 4,000 kilometres away from my dearly beloved creates an over-riding sense of longing where indiscretions are more easily overlooked (hers anyways).

.....Did I just sat thay??!!?? (damn, am I in trouble!!) Honey I was just joking I swear!!!

God Loves Scrabble

Fred Phelps said...
Dear Blob,

It has been my life's ambition to become a grand master Scrabble player. Outside of playing lots of Scrabble; is there any technique or mind focusing gimmick that might help me?

Fred Phelps is a Kansas City preacher who made famous the phrase "God hates fags" http://www.godhatesfags.com/main/index.html and routinely stages protests where he and his small band of followers spew biblically based hatred. Nevertheless he did write to The Blob and it's my sworn duty to reply. As much as I know about dating advice this question is really in my wheelhouse!! I've been an avid scrabble player for decades and met my GF playing the game on line (or so the legend goes).

There a reams and reams of guidance available on-line Reverend, such as this site: http://scrabbleclub.com/resources/tools.htm I won't bother you with strategy talk as it's all just a mouse click away. What I can do is relate what for lack of a better term is the more "spiritual" side of the game. Just as God has talked to you about the dangers of homosexuality (the feces fornicators and semen eaters that you so delicately describe) through the good book so too will the lettered scrabble tiles begin to talk to you after enough thoughtful playing experience.

I remember when this happened to me...I'd been playing the game for years but had never really given the true meaning of the letters a 2nd thought then one day a revelation!! The letters had intrinsic value beyond their points and this could change according to their availability during the course of a game. Consonants that blended with each other, tiles that I'd need in order to place other, more difficult ones that still hadn't been picked, suffixes or prefixes that I'd hang on to thereby improving my odds of playing a bingo (the treasured 7 letter word!) . Almost overnight my rating improved miraculously. Of course unlike believing in God it helps to have a bit of smarts. Blind faith alone will not allow you to hear the letters once they begin to speak. Open yourself up to the strategic possibilities of the alphabet and a whole new heavenly, bingo-filled realm awaits!! I must warn you though....their are many fags who play scrabble and "The Official Scrabble Dictionary" is a veritable gay phrasebook with word like anal, couture, fabulous, lube, and sconce. Good luck and may God bless.

Montreal vs.Toronto

TSO could use some of Montreal orchestra's razzle dazzle
John Teraud
While our orchestra is clearly superior, the MSO – with its hype and light shows – simply has more pizzazz

The public square glowed blue and pink as moving images several storeys high blazed from the sides of buildings. Some 6,000 people sat, stood and reclined in the outdoor space under a clear night sky.

This felt like a very special occasion. But instead of an appearance by, say, Amy Winehouse or Timbaland, the fuss on Sept. 4 was for the Montreal Symphony Orchestra's season-opening concert.

The 3,400-seat Salle Wilfrid-Pelletier at Place des Arts was sold-out. The public plaza outside its doors contained an extra stage holding an orchestra picked from Montreal university and conservatory ensembles.

Pianist Alain Lefèvre, a local boy with a sparkling international career, arrived to play Gershwin's Rhapsody in Blue with them.

Conductor Kent Nagano and Lefèvre were cheered like pop stars.

The crowd in the square watched Nagano run inside for his concert with the Montreal Symphony Orchestra. The concert was projected on a series of outdoor screens and the sides of several buildings in the Place des Arts complex.

Radio-Canada broadcast everything live on its radio and television and Internet networks so that an estimated 300,000 people could be there that night.

The buzz was palpable.

On Wednesday, the Toronto Symphony Orchestra will launch its new season with the first of two performances of two blockbuster pieces: Carl Orff's Carmina Burana and Maurice Ravel's Bolero, led by music director Peter Oundjian.

There will be no coloured lights or projections outside Roy Thomson Hall. CBC Radio will record the concert, for future broadcast. But no one passing by on King St. will have any idea that something special is going on nearby.

There is every reason to believe this concert will be excellent. It's too bad we have to hide our classical-music light under a bushel – a.k.a. Roy Thomson Hall.

I would like to argue that the TSO today provides a better musical experience than the MSO. Yet the Montreal organization manages to create a flurry of anticipation that our local people can't yet muster.

The MSO presents 70 concerts a year on a budget of $20 million. The TSO offers 107 concerts for $22 million.

The 44-year-old Salle Wilfrid-Pelletier has dismal acoustics. I sat in the sixth row of the first balcony and the concert sounded like it was being played in another room.

A new venue is coming, but has not even been designed yet.

Roy Thomson Hall, a quarter-century old, is hardly perfect. It holds about 600 people less than its Montreal counterpart and its circular layout places most people closer to the stage. It's not intimate, but does help create a nice rapport between orchestra and listeners.

The TSO recently went through rough years, skirting bankruptcy, getting embroiled in serious personnel problems and losing music director Jukka-Pekka Saraste.

At the same time, the MSO has weathered two players' strikes and the loss of maestro Charles Dutoit.

The TSO's new public face is a charming, intellectually lively Toronto-born musician with an excellent pedigree in chamber music.

Listen carefully, and most of Oundjian's work reveals meticulous artistry.

Ticket sales have risen accordingly. There now are many sold-out concerts – including both performances of Carmina Burana.

The Quebecers turned to California native Kent Nagano, now in his second season in Montreal. He, like Oundjian, is in his early 50s. But any similarities end there.

The MSO's opener, for all its flash, included serious music: Richard Strauss's famous tone poem Also Sprach Zarathustra as well as arias and songs by Mozart gorgeously sung by (a very pregnant) contralto Marie-Nicole Lemieux.

The orchestra was ragged in the Strauss and everything after the big chords made famous in the movie 2001: A Space Odyssey was muddy and lacked momentum.

The reduced orchestra in the Mozart sounded stolid, in odd opposition to Lemieux's honeyed vocals.

This was not the best work of a famous ensemble, yet the Montreal public gave the evening a prolonged, boisterous ovation.

The best part of the night was what happened outside. So much so that several hundred people chose to leave the hall at intermission to catch the conclusion in the square – including a hologram of Nagano conducting the youth in synch with the players inside.

In an interview the next day, Nagano was deliberate. He answered questions slowly, thoughtfully. As in his music-making, this maestro does not wear his art lightly.

Asked if he would like to see more multimedia concerts, Nagano seemed to say no: "It's not to say that the multimedia experience is the same as the special sensitivities that are generated by a live audience," he said. The acoustics and stage and rapport between audience and performers "simply can't be reproduced artificially. That's something that is closely related to the human spirit, and there is no duplication of the human spirit."

Asked over the phone what he would think of a flashier opening, Oundjian sounded enthusiastic.

Over the last five years, the TSO "has been slowly proving itself, its artistic level and making the product as good as it can be," said Oundjian. Adding new media and more public performances "will naturally evolve," now that deficits are out and a can-do spirit is in.

In Montreal, organizers know that making something look like a major event makes it a major event.

Or we could quote Oscar Wilde: "Nothing exceeds like excess."

In Toronto, our orchestra sounds the part. Now what we need is the pizzazz to make its concerts the grand events they deserve to be.

in response a somewhat bitter and possibly tipsy Maria Callous said...
Fuck toronto.

Thanks TOMave for directing me to the article and thanks Maria for your concisely formed opinion.
Canada is like your big, friendly cousin who is really good at painting and loves camping but has a touch of Asperger's Syndrome (a mild form of autism).
We come by our national insecurity naturally what with our close relative to the south flaunting his lifestyle and generally overshadowing us and hogging the limelight. Then there's Quebec, the proverbial island of French in a sea of English and within Quebec is Montreal (a crumbling,litter plagued, once great city). Three layers of insecurity and low self-esteem that compound exponentially.
Don't get me wrong...I love Montreal but the often knee-jerk hatred of Toronto has more to do with our own self-aggrandizement than any empirical reality. Montreal has the joie de vivre no doubt, a vibrant nightlife and colorful history. Most of us needn't travel 1 and a half hours to get to work and day to day, we enjoy a more leisurely pace. Nevertheless Toronto has 3 or 4 major sports teams to our 1, better museums and public attractions, better infrastructure, has usurped our title of "Canada's business centre" and is still just as safe a place to live if you stay away from the bad half of the city that is controlled by ethnic street gangs.
I know little about the Toronto symphony but I know they're good. So is the Montreal Symphony. It's safe to say that both are composed of around 90% excellent musicians (and 10% good to very good ones) but it's hard to believe that the TSO can match our own beloved orchestra when it comes to organizational incompetence, neurotic musicians, soap-opera like intrigue and vicious political machinations (trust me on this one). What seemed like almost a century of dictatorial rule by Charles Dutoit has left a poisonous atmosphere that, on a hot day, can still actually be smelled in the basement of Place des Arts. After he left there were several directorless years that turned a once amazing orchestra into an unruly crew on a rudderless ship. Now with their new director they will soon return to, if not surpass, their former glory.
The TSO doesn't need light shows and razzle dazzle although it couldn't hurt. What they really need is what the OSM already has....25 or so years of international touring and recording success led by a well known conductor/asshole with a gift for marketing who knows how to whip a terrified group of musicians into fighting shape as he builds his own career on their weary backs, lips, and arms.
While it may be fun and reassuring to bash Toronto we should take a page out of Calgary's playbook and work to make our city a better place while thoroughly ignoring everyone else.

Ask Uncle Blob

Maria Callous asks:

A good friend of mine told me that since he's sworn off dating, the dates have been flocking to him. Now, do you think that this is a natural law of the universe or is it simply that when we give up on dating that we emit some kind of weird vibes or odours (like pheremones, you know???) that make us more enticing?
Dear Maria,

Excellent question and the topic is right in my wheelhouse, to use an old baseball phrase. Wheelhouse means the place a ball is thrown where the batter is most likely to be able to hit it with power and its origins are postulated thusly courtesy of word-detective.com:

(On the other hand, it does seem more likely that the locomotive turntable "wheelhouse" (often called a "roundhouse") is the source, likening the awesome swing of the rail yard turntable to the batter's powerful swing. An additional argument for this theory is that sweeping side-arm pitches have been known as "roundhouse" pitches since about 1910, and, of course, the "roundhouse punch" is delivered with the same sort of motion. Thus, by 1959, this sort of "wheelhouse" had already been used as a metaphor for powerful motion for more than fifty years.)

Now, back to your question. I don't know who your friend is but I know a thing or two about trying too hard. Think about overswinging at a baseball for instance....you may knock one out of the park if you connect but more often than not you'll strike out and probably corkscrew yourself into the ground trying. Once the word spreads around that you'll swing at anything you'll not be likely to see anything in your wheelhouse for quite some time.

Your friend's new laid back approach is working not because of some new odour that is suddenly emanating from his body but precisely because he no longer seems like such a needy loser. Smell has nothing to do with it....a pitcher who is stinking up the joint will be quickly yanked by his manager.

We need look no further than the famous musical West Side Story for an apt summation:

"go man go but not like some yo-yo fool boy. Just keep it cool boy....real cool."

Once your friend does score a date this philosophy will stand him in good stead. The video clip I've included in this post demonstrates in classic fashion the pitfalls of trying too hard to impress your date. Watch and learn.

Blob Exclusive: We're Winning the War on Terror!!

As another 9-11 anniversary approaches people all over the world are taking stock. Where are we today almost 6 years after that fateful day? One of those people is Osama Bin Laden who got the ball rolling and now keeps up the rhetoric with carefully crafted videos. His latest release (#5 with a bullet on Billboard's "Terror Trackz" top 40) indicates that he is either wearing a fake black beard or has operatives with ties to the underground Grecian Formula smuggling market. I think he is presently clean shaven to better blend in with the sorrounding populace and wore the beard just for the video. Still.....hasn't he heard of production values, continuity, etc? How hard is it to get those trademark grey streaks even without going to the hairdresser (Clairol "Just for Beards" is a blatant symbol of American capitalist imperialism and was out of the question). Next time you put your face to film Osama, you'd best heed the words of humorist Ogden Nash (and I paraphrase): "A little talcum would be walcum". Even the most seasoned CIA analyst wouldn't know for sure!

So...where do we stand. Critics of President Bush aren't as smug as they were only a few months ago. The war is a success!! No terrorist attacks on N. American soil since 9-11 and thousands of Arabs killed (and more Americans than were actually murdered at the World Trade Center...but who's counting). There's a reason Bin Laden's latest video didn't warn of future attacks, he's running out of skilled fighters. I searched through many Jihadist websites looking for the trademark training camp video clips and could find only this http://www.break.com/index/arab_treadmill_prank.html which leads me to believe that the insurgency is indeed in it's death throes as famously noted in May 2005 by V.P. Dick Cheney.
The Republican regime appears to have won its bet with destiny and could use a good rest. Let's hope that next November fair minded Americans see fit to let them get the time off they deserve.

Otherworldly Voices

The great tenor's passing got me thinking about the human voice in all its manifestations. A few years back I was introduced (by regular contributor Dixxx) to the amazing scat stylings of William "Shooby" Taylor. By our usual standards it's terrible singing and equally bad improvisation yet his uninhibitedly joyous performance makes for compelling listening (albeit in small doses). I believe Blobophiles will enjoy the clip but as the following link shows, not everyone appreciated Shooby back when he was alive. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MutYIgL4Gbk&mode=related&search= Being booed off the stage in what should have been a friendly venue would have deterred most people but Shooby kept right on singing until a stroke ended his career in 1994.
The human voice connects to us emotionally the way no other instrument can (save the euphonium which many believe is the closest we've come to imitating the voice of God). While it can be argued that Pavarotti was the greatest voice of our generation there are still many who'd prefer the gutteral howl of a Tom Waits or the whiny innocence of a Neil Young. It often comes down to context....the voice must suit the material and then everything falls into place. Crossing over into other genres is a common practice for many vocalists and while it may be a good way of making more money it's often an artistic disaster. Pavarotti singing Schubert's Ave Maria works, Michael Bolton singing the same song....in the words of Jon Stewart; "not so much".
There's still no accounting for taste. Listen to this rarity, the great Shirley Bassey (of all people) singing Gounod's beautiful Ave Maria (of all song choices) in fabulous Jamaica (of all places). http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=f5jXLtQbgog
I'll bet some of you like it and some don't while others will abhor it and even hate me for posting it. I'll await your judgement.

Pavarotti: He Brought Opera to the Masses and Mass to the Opera

Luciano Pavarotti is no more. Arguably one of the greatest tenors of all time the hefty superstar lost his battle with pancreatic cancer late yesterday.
Heralded as The King of the High C's his legendary excesses led some to speculate that C came to stand for cholesterol level and caloric intake.
As he gained more and more weight in his later years health became a primary concern. As recently as last spring a bad back forced him to cancel a world tour that would have brought him to Montreal where I was engaged to be part of the orchestra and would have made at least a thousand bucks. If only he'd gone a little easier on the prosciutto.

By the end doctors report that Pavarotti had gotten so huge as to exert a noticeable gravitational effect on miniscule dust particles that would actually fall into orbit around his body if he were to stay in one place for any length of time.

All fat jokes aside, in his prime he could blow an audience away or move them to tears and he will continue doing just that....take a look at the video clip.

Hormones: God DOES Have a Sense of Irony!!

Men and women have a lot in common but when it comes to hormonally affected behavioural patterns there's a world of difference. When men are feeling down they tend to isolate themselves thereby shutting out the world until they either feel better or murder their entire family before commiting suicide. Outside stressors by and large call the shots for men whereas women cope far better with external stimuli but are defenseless when it comes to their own hormonal surges. The irritability, bloating, and despondency are a heavy burden to bear but women have learnt to share the pain with their loved ones.

For eons well meaning men have been baffled by the irrational moodiness and have come up with all sorts of ineffective coping strategies: Disengagement, appeasment (or the "Yes dear" approach), futile aggression, pre-emptive ice cream etc. but nothing seems to work.

In rare and fortunate circumstances different types of therapy may help. Take the case of the recently departed "Bitch of Broadway" Leona Helmsley, who left 12 million to her dog while cutting her grandchildren out of the will. Very late in life she was diagnosed with a severe case of S.A.D. (seasonal affective disorder). While this is sometimes referred to as the winter blues, Leona's case was so severe that no amount of summer sunshine seemed to make a difference. It was only when she began intensive light therapy treatments that people could stand to be around her and she stopped beating her servants.



Again, a case like this is the exception rather than the rule so where does that leave the rest of us? Life is hard enough so here at The Blob I'm always on the lookout for products or services that will make things just that much easier. Wouldn't you know it...scientists at Caprice Industries Ltd. may be on to something. They've provided some literature:

Remember the 70's and the mood ring fad? Small plastic rings with an embedded liquid that would change color based on how you were feeling. They soon went out of style when the liquid was found to be a lead based, radioctive, carcinogen, a detail that had been overlooked by the Chinese sub-contractors.

Here at Caprice Industries Ltd. we've taken that basic technology, removed the toxins, and infused these heat sensitive chemicals into a thermo-plastic resin. While still molten this resin is then molded into a suspendable seat (suspension allows a free flow of air) which is sensitive to even the smallest temperature fluctuations of a woman's pelvi-genito complex before the actual hormonally induced effects have a chance to take hold. For the man of the house this allows for an extra few minutes while evasive action is still possible, the woman can simply lock herself in the bedroom with a good book and a dish of ibuprofen! This color coded warning system is similar to the Terrorist Threat Key used by the U.S. government. The color coding is illustrated in the picture: Red means all clear and after that you decide what course of action is best!!! For more information please contact us at capriceindustriesltd.com

A Friend In Need

Larry Craig, the ill-fated US senator from Idaho has his own Facebook page. My research team actually came up with that tidbit and I reached out and befriended him in his hour of need. (It was the Jewish thing to do) He's gone into seclusion and during this period of reflection perhaps it would be nice if Blob contributors could follow my lead and contact him through Facebook as well. I let him know that I'd act as a sort of clearing house so he wouldn't be deluged with all sorts of miscreants and bumpkins therefore if you're at all interested in hooking up and helping out with Sen. Craig please contact me first.

I'm probably the 1st kind and understanding voice that he's heard in days and he was more than glad to talk candidly. As far as I can tell the whole ordeal seems like some kind of wacky misunderstanding. The senator insists that he's not gay (would you call a guy who has one or two drinks a week an alcoholic???) and stands by his "pro-family" voting record. When I asked him about plans for the future he told me that he'll be appearing in a movie already in the works that's a remake of an old Gus Van Sant classic with an added bio-pic angle. "I experimented with musical theater during my college days" chuckled the chastened conservative "so this is right up my alley!"

Here's a sneak peek:

Western Ways

Don't get me wrong...I love Quebec but my recent trip to Alberta taught me that we may have a thing or two to learn from our cousins to the West. Sure they have the spectacular scenery, the crisp mountain air, the Saskatoon berry, and a minimum wage that's up around 15 dollars an hour but what really impressed me was their corn and in particular the corn from Taber. This unassuming community is the corn capital of Canada. Growing conditions are excellent: hot days, cool nights, loamy soil and the highest amount of yearly sunlight in the nation.

Of course it's harvest time and all over Quebec the markets abound with our own corn. I've been enjoying the local variety but until you've tasted the Taber version you haven't really tasted corn (or lived for that matter). The latest generation is fuller and more succulent but remains firm and toothsome when properly cooked. The richly hued niblets are uniform and the size of pencil erasers.

As someone who grew up with boiled corn the Western cooking method was also a revelation. Silk removed, husks left on and then grilled or microwaved the end product was nothing short of astonishing. I googled taber corn and sure enough, at the top of the list was this link; http://www.jensenstabercorn.com/ . I emailed them and they sent back their latest ad which is a throwback to the old "Doublemint" ads and features the so-called Jensen Twins as spokesmodels. The next time you're out West make sure to enjoy some delicious, nutritious, Taber brand corn!!

The Sunken Cathedral

Crumbling municipal infrastructure has long been a concern but a recent bridge collapse in Minnesota has brought the issue to the front pages. While several people perished south of the border the true capital of civic decay is Montreal.

Chunks of overpass kill unwary motorists, 9 bridges are closed to truck traffic, tens of thousands of crater-like potholes make our roadways resemble those of Kabul and an impending massive, downtown sinkhole recently shut down the subway and many businesses. Oh yeah....there's also the Olympic Stadium, a cavernous, cretinous, mausoleum that, while not part of our infrastructure, does shed chunks of concrete and stands as a monument to all that is wrong with the standards and practices of our construction industry.

At the epicentre of the mid-city trouble is Christ Church Cathedral, a marvelous edifice (Sometimes home to the soon-to-be-world-famous Griffon Brass Band) and oasis amidst the hustle and bustle. Some years ago it was propped up on stilts while land was excavated from beneath it to make way for a huge mall, part of Montreal's Underground city. Today it perches perilously as we wait to see if engineers can prevent it from actually becoming part of the subterranean scenery. While I firmly believe that the underworld could use a little more old time religion and a lot more brass band music this may not be the best way of going about it.

Speaking of underworld, Montreal has an illustrious history of handing out building contracts to the lowest bidder who usually happens to be a city councillor's cousin who has affiliations with guys named Cotroni or Rizzuto.(google them) Is the fondness for structures using massive amounts of cement just a coincidence?? (and might I add at this juncture that I in no way wish to cast aspersions upon the Italians who are a beautiful and vibrant people)

What we end up with are shoddily built roadways made of materials of questionable quality by guys who by and large don't know their butt crack from a bucket of tar. (see photo)

We are one of the highest taxed groups of people in North America but what really makes us distinct is our veal-like passivity in the face of corrupt and inept authority. Vive la difference!!

Maybe Barry Bonds isn't so Bad After All

"We all make mistakes," said Michael Vick "Dogfighting is a terrible thing and I reject it ... I found Jesus and turned my life over to God. I think that's the right thing to do as of right now."

I only hope for his sake that God is there when some dog loving prisoners come up with the appropriate ironic punishment for the star QB.

And so, another role model bites the dust. Gone are the days when athletes, actors, pageant winners and other fixtures of pop culture could actually serve as positive role models for our children. Even our lawmakers seem to be getting more loathsomely pathetic every day. Take the latest American hypocrite, Idaho repulican senator Larry Craig. He plead guilty to lewd conduct charges resulting from a sting operation in the Minneapolis airport after he propositioned an undercover cop in an adjoining stall by repeatedly tapping his foot and rubbing his hand along the bottom of the stall divider, apparently common sign language among the anonymous gay bathroom sex crowd. Of course sen. Craig has voted against pro-gay bills and is a staunch conservative. He is now backtracking and should be finding Jesus any minute now http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EhiP1h8pMZc&NR=1

If you haven't seen the Miss Carolina video yet take a look at this. (warning: this is a bit painful) http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QiJBKmOWphs They should stop pretending that pageants care about the intelligence of the contestants: nice face, nice tits, nice ass you win!!! period. Let others concern themselves with the state of education, our beauty pageant contestants are way too busy building their hair, vaselining their teeth and taping their bathing suits.

Where will the next role models come from? Who can meet the demanding job requirements? A musician, devoted family man, baker, or an avid blogger?...maybe all of the above. I'm going to watch the Daily Show now. I think I just beat them to the Larry Craig story by 5 minutes.... phew!!!

Photoshop Phun #17

Formal or casual? This young lady is ready for anything thanks to a simple photoshop juxtaposition. Who'd have thought back in highschool that one day I'd be the one "turning heads"!

New Directions...The Birth Pangs of a Cult

Party Bear said...
"You're a prophet, Blob! I worship thee!"

Mama Callous said...

"We need more inspiration. We're drying up here"

I hear you all loud and clear, believe me. If it seems as though I've been ignoring all the boisterous commentary then forgive me but after my voyage to the Rockies, the past few days have been spent in quiet reflection along with a bit of light housekeeping.

Why was I led to pick up a copy of The Book of Mormon, long tucked away on a small book shelf at Phyllis' house? What was revealed to me atop Mt. Edith Cavell etched into Angel Glacier? How was it that I came to bake exactly 5 pies, no more no less? Am I deserving of the praise and adulation that has been heaped upon me like so much sheep manure on a barren suburban lawn in the early days of spring? Where is this all leading me?

It's no wonder I've been absent with all these questions plaguing me. The answers are hard to come by but let me at least make an attempt.

Joseph Smith, the founder of Mormonism was a brilliant hoaxster but he can't fool me. It's just the Bible with a wacky, dumbed down American spin. Sort of like what the Yanks do with British sitcoms. It sort of got me thinking about what it would take to start my own religion and only days later I received a sign that shook me to the core...there, etched in the massive ice sheet the words "read the Blob" gradually appeared to me and sometime later to my equally stunned partner Phyllis:

After my ascension to the summit I was greeted with another stunning vision; The sun looked for all the world like the top of a pie complete with vent hole. By the time Phyllis reached my vantage point the image was gone!! "Pie in the sky!" I thought....."now there's a solid foundation for a new religion!!" I quickly realized that my earlier decision to enter a pie at the Millarville Fair was not mine alone. Had there been some othwerworldy guidance?? I re-attacked my 5th pie with new found ardour and lo, it was perfect yet the judges were blind to it's excellence. Why 5 pies (no more, no less). 5 perfect circles (Pi!!) each 360 degress for a total of 1800. 1800 was the birth year of John Nelson Darby, father of Dispensationalism, a fundamentalist, largely American brand of Protestantism which would later be espoused by Jerry Falwell and others of his ilk. They believe the Bible is divided into 7 distinct periods (or dispensations) based on Gods dealings with his flock.

Were these revelations telling me to start an 8th? After all isn't it easier to cut a pie into 8ths than 7ths and an 8th of a pie is 45 degrees which is my age plus 3...the exact number of children that I've fathered !!!! Surely this can't be a mere coincidence.

Even with this powerful evidence and with all the revelations I still don't know if leadership is my bag. What could I tell people, why should they listen to me?? I suppose all of the major religions started out as fringe, nutcase, beautifully marketed cults and they just happened to catch on. I guess it wouldn't hurt to try.....

More Advice

Dear Blob,

A while back you mentioned Weird Al Yankovic and Alan Sherman in a post. Both were great parodists but they dealt mostly with pop music. Any ideas for a guy who'd like to break into the business but prefers classical music?

yours truly,

Crazy Alan Sleemowitz*



Excellent question Crazy Alan and I can see by your name that we're going to have a lot of work to do. Just like anything else being a good song parodist requires hard work and a significant investment of time. Sure you could go the "MAD Magazine" route and take the cheap laugh where a Star Trek spoof becomes Star Blech. They just phone that stuff in whereas a more serious jokester would go with Star Dreck thereby adding the treasured NYC, Yiddish edge. (Dreck means shit BTW, for those of you who still buy your so called bagels at the supermarket)
I love classical music as much as the next person but it has an inherent disadvantage in that it is much more esoteric than pop or folk and many of the songs are in a foreign language. The obvious answer is to start with English language favorites: A selection from Handel's Messiah,
"O Death, Where is thy Sting" becomes "O Death, Where are my Keys". Bernstein's semi-classical "Glitter and Be Gay" from the musical Candide becomes "Glitter and be a Fag"....you get the idea. Start doing your homework and get back to me with the results.

*Ed. Note: After receiving a scathing rebuke for his previous post The Blob will temporarily be instituting a new "Playin' it Safe" policy whereby all questions directed towards the site will be composed in house. Rumor has it that several law suits are in the works so the wagons must be circled, the hatches battened down, and loins girded in an attempt to fend off the foe, ride out the storm, and protect loins. The most recent attack came from a usually placid and unlikely source...please bear with us.

Maria, I Just Mentored a Girl Named Maria

Dear Blob,

I am a hot young Brazilian woman in Rio de Janeiro. I spend most of my days on Ipanema beach and partying at night. I have started to find my existence somewhat meaningless of late and am looking for a mature mentor, or failing that just some good advice. What I want to know is; am I contributing anything to society?

Maria del Clevagio

Before I get to the answer I'd just like to say how pleased I am to have a Brazilian contributor. As any blogger would tell you, It's a great day when you finally get to penetrate the South American market. Your name which in English means "sea of cleavage" (where I enjoy the occasional dip) is beautiful and evocative, your question; concise and provocative and wouldn't you know it...you've come to the right place. Either it's serendipity or you already know that I've recently established an outreach program for hot, young Brazilian women (the neediest of hot , young women!) It's a kind of on line drop-in center where my mentoring skills are available free of charge to all qualified applicants.

Now then...my answer, but as a word of warning I should first say that the comment section of The Blob is teeming with all sorts of Lotharios ready to steer a young girl in the wrong direction for their own unhealthy gain. The last thing you need during an existential crisis is some country bumpkin, pompous Anglophile or tangential maniac leading you astray.

I'm far from being any of those types and if anything one could say I was a caring Braziliophile. I delight in all things Brazilian: the coffee, the music, the wax jobs, you name it!!

So....are you contributing to society? There are so many flip and ready answers full of leering double entendres and inappropriately suggestive asides. While others would eagerly wade, hip deep, in that immoral sludge I'll take the high road and answer thusly not simply as a mentor but as the mature mentor that you require. After all wasn't it Rabelais who once famously noted "Heeding the advice of an immature mentor is not unlike buying ones candle wax from the porkman". Need I say more?

I can only hope that I've been of some help and that you will continue to seek out my advice. Now go forth, hone your craft (whatever that might be), approach vice with an eye towards moderation, never, ever, be caught without the proper foundation garment and remember this chiasmus: Ask not what you can contribute to society but what society can contribute to you!

Negroes Explained (but what of the Mexicans)

Color me astonished! Years of schooling and TV viewing had led me to believe that our species emerged, (somewhat darker skinned) in Africa and that whiteness was an evolutionary adaptation as some among us meandered north over the millenia.
Leafing through the Book of Mormon (don't ask) the other day I came upon a passage so succinct and thorough as to leave me dumbfounded and questioning all my previously held beliefs on the subject. Please read the passage in question which concerns itself with the Laminites and their failure to heed a directive from God:

NEPHI 5:15-24
Wherefore, the word of the Lord was fulfilled which he spake unto me, saying that: Inasmuch as they will not hearken unto thy words they shall be cut off from the presence of the Lord. And behold, they were cut off from his presence.

21 And he had caused the cursing to come upon them, yea, even a sore cursing, because of their iniquity. For behold, they had hardened their hearts against him, that they had become like unto a flint; wherefore, as they were white, and exceedingly fair and delightsome, that they might not be enticing unto my people the Lord God did cause a skin of blackness to come upon them.

22 And thus saith the Lord God: I will cause that they shall be loathsome unto thy people, save they shall repent of their iniquities.

23 And cursed shall be the seed of him that mixeth with their seed; for they shall be cursed even with the same cursing. And the Lord spake it, and it was done.

24 And because of their cursing which was upon them they did become an idle people, full of mischief and subtlety, and did seek in the wilderness for beasts of prey.

25 And the Lord God said unto me: They shall be a scourge unto thy seed, to stir them up in remembrance of me; and inasmuch as they will not remember me, and hearken unto my words, they shall scourge them even unto destruction.

So there you have it. Millions of righteous Mormons can't be wrong!
Reading along in the Book I happened upon another passage that rationally makes a strong case for polygamy. I have half a mind to convert and procure for myself at least 4 wives and what man wouldn't do the same? Imagine the good-natured give and take, the unexpected (and delightful) hormonally induced mood swings, the kindhearted suggestions for better ways to do everything, the refreshing use of intuition and emotion instead of tired, old logic. Imagine all this and then multiply by 4.....Where do I sign up??!!

The Death of Pie

I wish I could say that I was sitting here staring at my first prize check of 1000 dollars but today just wasn't my day. Am I feeling humiliated? No. Vindictive? A little. Sick of saskatoon berries? Yes!!
As we walked into the food display area of the arena I had this sinking feeling for there overhead, graciously donated by the local Mennonite community, was a large banner that read "Kochen Macht Frei". I knew then and there that I didn't have a chance.
Sure enough my beautiful pie didn't even merit an honorable mention. The winner, 13 yr. old Teagan Keegstra, (that's right...Keegstra!) deserved 3rd place at best but I'm an outsider (auslander) and had no recourse after the fact.
Small consolation...I did get the Tenderflake Bursary ($50.00) for "Best Use of Lard by a Jew" but as the only Jew I was the odds on favorite. Unfortunately I can't download pictures from Phyllis' comp but in a few days I'll be home. You can be the judge....I was robbed!!!
My filling had the perfect ooze quotient (finally) with a strong Saskatoon flavor bolstered by hints of ginger, lemon, and almond extract. The pastry crust positively shattered under slight pressure from a fork only to reveal it's more tender underside. The delicate braid along the circumference and small leaf shaped pastry ornaments only hinted at the splendor within.
I come away from the Millarville Fair having seen anti-Semitism at its hateful worse. This is a card that I never play (exceptions: orchestral auditions, failed relationships, Jeopardy tryouts, all Quebec-based lotteries, and now this!).
I'll recover in time but for now I feel like an utter fool. Only hours ago my right hand was coated in lard...LARD...in all its porcine unctuousness. I tried and tried but couldn't wash it off....I feel it even now between my fingers and beneath my nails....its essence clings to my eyes!! It might as well have been the very blood of my ancestors after I'd stabbed them in the back!!!
Back in Montreal the support of friends will help speed the healing as will a complimentary meal at Schwartz's and a dozen St. Viateur bagels.
Next year, undaunted, I will enter once again with an identical pie save one new ingredient; a goyish family name.

All Over but the Waiting

We navigated the final dirt road that brought us into the Millarville fairgrounds at a cautious pace so as not to disturb our precious cargo. The final triumphant chorale of Mahler's 5th symphony blared from the car's speakers as I held the pie aloft as a symbolic offering to the gods. The majesty of the moment didn't escape the many exhibitors who were there, as were we, to register their wares.
Once signed in we headed to the viewing arena and straight for the baked and cooked goods display, past the patronizing For Men Only area to the multi-tiered Saskatoon Pie table that would soon hold some 89 crusty delicacies. Competition for prime tier position was polite yet I must admit that my hockey playing experience came in handy. These farm women are fiercely proud and will become violent if provoked!
And so, Phyllis and I placed our entries with care and an eye for aesthetics all the while scouting out the other pies and oh what pies there were!! I'm not saying we're overmatched but we're talking 80 dollar ceramic plates and pies with ornate pastry appliques and cutouts. I stand by my creation but the jury, as they say, is still out. Tomorrow will surely come and with it results of the big contest. There is one bursary that I'm sure to win (more later) but as for the grand prize.....it's anybody's guess.
Rumor has it that Marnie Bigelow, the slut of Priddis, spent 10 minutes "looking for her contact lens" under the judges table and that old Reilly Mullins is offering up his prize sow for a weekend getaway. Country life isn't so different from city life after all.

Pie are Round

It's good to see that even in my absence the excitement continues to build as the Saskatoonberry Pie baking contest approaches. The 100th edition of the Priddis-Millarville Country Fair is set to begin and all entries must be in no later than friday at midnight. As such tonight I will make my 5th and final test pie before the main event. In a subtle psychological jibe at the competition I leaked the fact that I'll be going with only 1-2 tbsps of tapioca...a bold move that one local critic called "foolhardy at best". Whether or not I actually go that low is my little secret.
I had planned to attempt a pork crust but upon a carelful re-reading of the contest rules I came upon this little used clause:
5055A: Pies may be one or two crusted with the optional top crust being either pastry(lattice or full), or crumb. No meats, meat pastes or meat substitutes may be used .
What a bunch of countrified bastards!! If it's any consolation I'll be using lard in the crust (kosher laws be damned..there's $1,000 bucks at stake here!!)
And so as we speak the Twin Counties are abuzz with pre-fair activity as preparations enter their final stages. Farmers groom their livestock for showing, craftspeople ready there goods, and housewives and predominantly gay men put the finishing touches on their kitchen delicacies.
The Saskatoon is an unwieldy beast of a berry. I climbed the mountains of Jasper looking for guidance and enlightenment and came down knowing that I'll need skill, cunning, and no small quantity of good fortune (and much less tapioca) to succeed. I promise you this: I will do my very best and return to Montreal with my head held high.

News of The Blob

A Dream Deferred
reuters Aug. 15

Any hopes of a pan-global Blob community based on the little known blog of the same name have been put on hold indefinitely. Bob S. , the reclusive and charismatic founder took leave of his duties recently as he undertook a much publicized trip to the Rockies in search of enlightenment. In his absence Blob contributors were left on their own and activity in the all important comment section fizzled to an almost total standstill.
On his return to civilization Bob S. , never one to mince words, couldn't help but voice his disappointment: "To be honest I was afraid this would happen. My contributors are largely alcohol fueled and protein deprived and without guidance have a tendency to lose focus. I had hopes of The Blob becoming a unifying force for all races and creeds (except of course the Libyans) based on juvenile humor and funny pictures....everything seemed to be in place too; the obsequious,lonely devotees, the easy international access, I was optimistic to say the least."
So where did The Blob go wrong? Analysts point to the western Canada trip as a major factor. Sporadic posting became the norm and a crude dial-up connection made presenting even the simplest photoshopped image an impossibility.
Can the project be salvaged and a once unpopular blog return to its former glory? Only time will tell.

The Life of Pie

The idyllic country life is doing me a world of good. My emphyzema has cleared up, the gout is but a thing of the past, and the mysterious rash, while still spreading, has taken on a marvelous, rosy hue.

Today Phyllis and I replanted a mugho pine and harvested a trunkload of woodchip mulch from a roadside pile. I took some time of from pie baking to go catch a couple of frogs down by the creek for a young, tow headed boy name of Henry.

About those pies...I just happen to be here for the 100th anniversary of the Priddis & Millarville County fair. http://www.millarville-ab.com/Fair.html This year only there's a special $1000 prize for the best Saskatoon berry pie so spurred on by Phyllis we ponied up the 5 dollar entry fee and I've been perfecting my technique for the past few days using friends and relatives as pie tasting guinea pigs.

The saskatoon is a Western delicacy and is drier with a more pronounced almond note than the blueberry. Getting a filling with the proper "ooze quotient" has proven a challenge but I'm not about to give up. Last year's winner Louisa Webb (that smug, gingham clad bitch) better not be resting on her laurels cause I'm coming after her with all the resolve and Eastern know how that this city boy can muster!!

In a day or so I'll be heading even further afield with a 3-4 day excursion that will take us through Banff, Jasper and the West Edmonton Mall. As such I'll not be able to do any posting. I leave feeling more hopeful than I have in days as the name calling, taunting, and chastizing that has gone on between my contributors, their alter egos, and myself is all but a thing of the past. May The Blob continue to be the oasis of love (and pie)that it was meant to be...... Piece be with you.

Another New Sponsor

You're about to spend your first night with that special someone but how to break the ice?? Nothing says "Let's get this party started" like the MediMate fun date kit !! All materials are hospital tested and hospital approved (Purell not incl.) to ensure hours of faux doctor fun. Take turns being practitioner or patient, re-enact scenes from your favorite medical TV show, one of you can be a baboon being prepped for vivisection who escapes and wreaks havoc on the cowering nurse (ironically using the very instruments meant for him!), ever wanted to be a sadistic prison physician on cavity search day? Go ahead....let your imaginations run wild!!! The basic starter set pictured here is only $199.99. Did someone say "The doctor is in"!!??

For more advanced couples why not try our Lady Intima Collection at $249.99. It's Gyne"cool"ogical!!!

Summer Safety with Turd Stuffington (and Turd jr.)

Hi kids and welcome aboard!! Our mission today is safety and in fact, that should be our mission every day. My son Turd jr. and I have a couple of tips that will help you have a fun yet safe summer.

As crew commander the men who serve under me and I often find it necesarry to engage in dangerous, high risk activities where maximum protection is an absolute must.

Those of you who read my most recent adventure "Turd Stuffington and the MegaGerbils of Zebulon 7" surely know what I'm talking about!

While you kids may not have close calls like that, accidents can happen anywhere. Summer is a season of pool parties, barbecues, tailgate parties (my favorite), or just hanging out in the park at night. Choking and gagging is a constant threat which is why a firm knowledge of the heimlich maneuver is a must. It's the single most important weapon in our safety arsenal. I taught Turd jr.about it and now let him teach you:

Thanks Dad!! I remember that lesson like it was yesterday...stand behind the victim, clasp your hands firmly under the rib cage, use a series of jerking motions with the wrists and whatever blockage was there should come spewing out. We practiced a lot in scouts too so now I'm an expert!! Over and out Dad.

Great work Junior, now let's look at some actual demonstrations of the right way:

The next picture shows the wrong way... The boys and I down at mission control call it the "Heineken maneuver" and to be honest I get very uncomfortable just looking at it...it's just so very wrong.

So kids,this is Turd Stuffington signing out and reminding you to learn the Heimlich properly and maybe even take a first aid course. Help isn't always close at hand and one day, whether you're battling MegaGerbils on the distant planet of Zebulon 7 or saving a buddy at a secluded picnic after he gagged on a piece of meat I'm sure you'd rather be a safety hero than a safety zero!!

Let us Spray

OK everybody, it's time to round up the kids, throw them into the van and head over to your nearest cineplex. Hairspray is this summer's must see hit, a double dose of Dr. Feelgood's Happy Tonic and just the cure for those of us depressed by the slaughter in Darfur and the slow but inexorable death of our planet. This sweetly subversive film is an homage to the idealism of the early 60's and the importance of non-conformity all artfully choreographed to an infectious rock and roll back beat....vive la difference!! When John Waters first began writing this film years ago he had little idea that it would be turned into a broadway musical and then into another movie based on the show. Waters has long been a champion of the underdog (often the transvestite underdog) and his body of work is testament to the power of American popular culture which, despite the urge to conform, always makes room for the rebel with some talent and a cause.

The cherry on top of my cinema sundae was a post-film fact finding mission to the men's lavatory at the insistence of my GF. A mysterious and compelling noise was coming from within (sounded like they were sand blasting a urinal) and as I neared the entrance I'll have to admit that my curiousity was piqued. After washing my hands I sidled over to the air dryer but this was just your regular and ineffective model. Across the room though and looking more imposing and streamlined was The XLERATOR. I placed my wet hands beneath the machine, it detected their presence, and 10 intense seconds later they were bone dry. This was power! This stream of air could clean your driveway, pile your autumn leaves and most likely exfoliated the top layer of skin from my hands. I left the washroom feeling completely dessicated and sanitized, ready to grab the escalator handrail that only minutes before had been held by hundreds of acne infested teenagers. This was the feel good hand dryer of the summer!