City Planning: What the Bumblefuckers Want

Normanskill, NY (AP), “Just thirteen members of The Mayor’s Committee on Strategic Planning for The City of Normanskill, about a quarter of the total group, actually live in the City, with the rest making their homes in surrounding suburbs, according to an analysis by reporter V. Gina Gnome that included Bumblefuck and Normanskill County voting records, Internet-based address databases and the local telephone book.”

Wintermute: I’m a big fan of The Mayor, as you know, but this sort of behavior really frosts my donut. And not in the good way. As a longtime, tax-paying citizen of Normanskill, why in the world would I want someone from Bumblefuck County making decisions about my City’s future? What do all those people from suburbs out in Bumblefuck County actually want, anyway? A few more Starbucks to visit at lunch?

The Bumblefuckers: More parking for the two times a month we come into the city. All the cultural stuff in a nice sanitized area with no brown or poor people around. Cheap apartments for poor people that we can buy and flip a year later after having some poor, brown people repaint them for minimum wage, without benefits or social security. Maybe an indoor shopping mall. No gay people making us uncomfortable. More shows by The Dave Matthews Band, but acoustic ones in nice clean bars, so we can talk while they play. More cool nightclubs and restaurants with rope lines so we can feel exceptional when we get in. But they have to be in brightly lit areas with plentiful parking lots (we can’t parallel park, you know) and no poor, brown, gay or poor brown gay people around. In fact, when it comes to parking lots, let’s have some new deluxe “wider vehicle” spots designated for our Hummers only. You could put them where the handicapped spots are now, since no disabled people would get past the rope at our kinds of nightclubs anyway. That would pretty much do it for us. Good thing the Mayor put us on the Committee!

Wintermute: Why are you Bumblefuckers always so concerned about parking? Why, according to the Normanskill City Website, there are over 2,000 parking spots within a four block radius of the intersection of Asshat Avenue and Grand Street.

Karellen: Oh, come on, Wintermute. You know that most of those parking spots have been full since 1925. The last time I was heading downtown to the Asshat and Grand area and there was something going on at the Armory I ended up having to park up on Millard Fillmore Avenue. It’s a somewhat obvious choice, but for whatever reason (too freaky for the Suburbanites?), I didn’t have too much trouble finding a spot there. There’s always Hippie Hollow too. There’s always plenty of good parking underneath the overpass there. It’s kind of stuffy down there, though, so it’s good to leave your windows open. It’s so peaceful down there. Sometimes I just drop the kids off there and go for a walk. I need a lot of alone time, you know.

Louie Shakes: That’s right! There’s lots of nice young neighborhood people there who are willing to keep the kids entertained while you walk, and with the windows down, it’s okay to leave the kids in the car. Be sure to give the kids some money in case the ice cream truck comes while you’re gone. And leave the trunk open for them, too. They can play fort in it.

Guy Who Blocks The Flow: It is pouring down rain now, even though the sun is shining. Are the Four Horsemen sure to follow soon?

Guy Who Esplains Thins: They ditched their horses and are in motorboats now, following their yachts down the Hudson.

Pestilence: If there’s one muffuckin scratch on my yacht, Normanskill is going down with bird flu tomorrow!!

Famine: Are we there yet? I’m huuuuuuuuungry!!!!!

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Space Chubby Goes Prog

V. Gina Gnome: Hey everybody, I’m sharing the new Space Chubby album on Soulsuck right now. Jury’s still out, but it’s definitely worth a listen. Don’t let the naysayers steer you wrong. Step right up to and get a fresh hot copy of Nice Cans, Chunky Dumpster, the brand new record by those purveyors of progressively political prog punk: Space Chubby! P.S. It kinda sounds like they’ve been smoking the reefer a lot, ‘cause there’s a lotta prog here. Just saying.

Stoney Stone Stoner: Whoa, dude, I don’t think Space Chubby deserve to be called prog, despite Rilla the Real Gorrilla’s certifiably uncanny vocal resemblance to Geddy Lee. SALESMEN!!! Ooop ooop ooop OOOOP!!!! Heh. Heh heh. Heh. This new record just sorta sounds like trend hopping to me, like they’re trying to spray this week’s flavor onto last week’s stink, namsain? And that just smells like perfumed shit. And not the good kind of shit either. Heh heh. Heh. Heh heh.

V. Gina Gnome: They’re not trend hopping. They’re expanding their musical pallet, and as part of that they’re trying to “go prog” a little. Obviously, they’re going through some growing pains, but it’s not inorganic or obvious.

Stoney Stone Stoner: Well, being that the trend prior to their album has been for indie superstar bands like Mars Volta and Radiohead to “go prog,” I just gotta say that I feel as though Space Chubby’s late arrival on the trend smacks of inauthenticity. Plus even if it is organic, it’s just not their bag, baby. They were a great indie punk noise band. Every effort they’ve made to expand has fallen flat for me. Hey, uh, can you pass me that remote over there? It’s time for Mutual of Omaha’s “Wild Kingdom.” Excellent!! And shit. Heh heh. Heh.

Zorax, Master of the Obvious: Prog is dead. Anyone trying to do anything called “prog” or “neo-prog” today is just looking for an excuse to wank out more than is probably healthy, and they will soon end up on the Dave Matthews Band concert circuit. Prog was part and parcel of an era. Saying “I am prog” today is like saying “I am 1968″ today. It just doesn’t make sense. Bands may make concept albums or incorporate orchestral structures or play mellotrons, but they’re not prog. Except for King Crimson. They birthed the genre and are still entitled to use the term. Even though they don’t.

V. Gina Gnome: Well that’s why I kinda use the term “go prog” kind of tongue-in-cheek, Zorax. Bands like Radiohead and Mars Volta are certainly incorporating prog elements into their music, which is interesting, if not entirely unproblematic artistically.

Zorax, Master of the Obvious: Radiohead and Mars Volta are loathsome and unoriginal. And Flaming Lips, too, for that matter, who are another band who get tagged with the “prog” label. Most bands that are trying to “go prog” these days are trying to tap into an audience that isn’t much interested in anything with that label released after 1978. Ozric Tentacles and Spock’s Beard and Marillion and the like are terrible, terrible bands for the most part. Old Genesis and Yes and such is listenable only because it’s charming in its dated quaintness. But you can’t quaintly date something made in 2005. Plus, the whole charm of prog was that people in ’67-78 were just beginning to figure out that it was possible to merge rock and jazz and classical and such. These days, such mergers are old hat: you already KNOW that you can mix and match just about any styles, so there’s not much novelty there either. Now shut your trap and get with the fluffing! I’m not paying you to upload and critique albums! I’ve got people to do, things to see. Chop chop!

Napoleon Boner Pirate: My favorite prog to fluff to is Yes’s The Yes Album. Part III of “Starship Trooper,” entitled “Wurm” has never failed to get a rise out of a client, with the exception of Drunknard from Space Chubby, ironically enough. I guess Yes needs to do a follow up song called “Chuckun.”

Drunknard: I’ll drink to that.

Albany Jones Can’t Relax

Albany Jones: God, I hate the weekends, when I can’t go to work, and I’m stuck here at home. I wake up Monday mornings and as I’m getting ready to head in to the office, I am already looking ahead to the following Friday with dread, knowing that as soon as 5:00 rolls round, I’m back into limbo for two days. Saturdays are the worst. Here I am, it’s Saturday night and there’s nothing to do until midnight, when, maybe, I’ll be able to sleep. That’s five hours away!

V. Gina Gnome: Aw, c’mon, Jones. Weekends are great! Even by yourself! I mean, don’t you have a Play Station or a Wii? A good book? Cable TV? Netflix? A girlfriend? There’s got to be something that would fill the time in a satisfying fashion, right?

Albany Jones: Hour one is over. I found something to do: wash dishes. That killed 20 minutes. I tried to nap, unsuccessfully. Not tired. Did a couple of shots. Still not tired enough. Hour one is over. Four to go.

Magnum Anvil: Or you could go to a show! There’s some jam bands at Revolution Hall tonight. That will easily kill at least four hours. And you might even get lucky with the ladies if you go! Better odds than staying home, anyway.

Albany Jones: Hour two is over. I listened to an Olivia Newton-John album, finished up a book, and watched the rest of the only movie I have around the house, some crappy old Woody Allen film from the ‘70s. Three hours to go.

V. Gina Gnome: Maybe you need to take a week off, Jones, to get your batteries re-charged, and maybe remember how to amuse yourself when you can’t work at your teletype machine. Doesn’t that sound nice?

Albany Jones: A week off would kill me, Gina. You don’t know what it’s like. There are plenty of things I can do, but overall they just make me feel more empty and alone. And then once they are done, I have to search desperately for something else to keep my mind occupied. I have to fight the urge to sit on the bed and scream after a couple of days out of the office. Three day weekends are almost more than I can bear. If only I could get into the office on the weekend, that would be the solution. But the goddamn union makes sure I can’t do that, even if I want to go in and work for free. They’ve put a coded lock on the door to the teletype room to keep me out of there. Gee, thanks, comrades.

Magnum Anvil: Well I’ve got to be honest, here. It sounds to me like Albany Jones just needs to pick himself up by his bootstraps and look at how good he’s got it and quit being a whining pampered baby. If he can’t see that, what with his good union job with the State, then some therapy is in order. Soon.

Albany Jones: Are you paying, Magnum?

Magnum Anvil: Of course I’m not paying, you assclown. You’re a Stateworker! Call EAP!

Doktor Schulz von Thun: Zo vot zeems to be zee trooble, Oolbonee Chones?

Albany Jones: Well, Doktor Schulz von Thun, I guess I’m just bored. I don’t have a Play Station or a Wii or even a computer game. I never liked video games. I also don’t like football, dining out, stand-up comedy or music. How can I be entertained when I’m not at work, given all of that?

Doktor Schulz von Thun: Ovv kurze choor bored! Choor spendink Zatiday nacht typing on zee komputenmaschine! Mit inmaginaries herrens und fraulines!!

Albany Jones: Well, duh. I’m doing that because I’m bored.

Doktor Schulz von Thun: Vot choo need is zee kompanionzhip. Und not zee komputenmaschinen kinden. Zee aktualfleschenbonen kinden iz vot choo needz.

Albany Jones: Tell me about it, Doktor Schulz von Thun. But how do I get me some of that?

Doktor Schulz von Thun: Choo picken up zee telephonenesmaschinenen und choo dial und frienden und zay ‘Ja frienden, chall vee drinken zee beerundsteinen togetter, ja?’ Zimple!! Und nau, zottil be un tausend pfennig, bitte und danke. Tzop tzop!

Albany Jones: EAP’s footing the bill, Doktor, so talk to the State. And maybe you’re right, I do need to reach out to friends and find some other ways to fill the weekends. But tonight, I’m up to seven shots of Bacardi and I’m starting to feel sleepy. Good night everyone, you’ve all been great! Pray for me that I’ll be able to get to sleep, and stay in bed restfully until well past noon tomorrow!

The LORD: Sorry, Jones. I’m not accepting those prayers. I’m planning on waking you up at 4:00 AM so you can worry about stuff at work. Have a nice Sunday!

Published in: on February 7, 2010 at 5:49 pm  Leave a Comment  

The Whatnot Scandal

Troy, NY (AP) – A newly elected city representative in the city of Troy, New York was caught on mic talking salaciously to his aide about one of his fellow conference attendees. Councilman Magnum Anvil had just given a speech reiterating his campaign promise (“A Whatnot In Every Whatnot!”) when he leaned over to campaign aide V. Gina Gnome and remarked “You see that whatnot in the second row? I totally gave his wife the whatnot last night. And you would not believe the whatnot that she whatnotted!” When asked to comment on the matter, a spokesperson for Councilman Anvil told the press, “We will not whatnot this whatnot with any whatnot. Kill a hobo.” When asked to comment on the apparent slander on hobos everywhere, Hobos United Local 371 Foreman Ol’ Dirty Piece of Strange grumbled menacingly and asked for some spare change to buy some whatnot for which to whatnot.

Published in: on January 27, 2010 at 2:04 pm  Leave a Comment