Saturday, October 06, 2007

Amazing Scientific Discoveries, Part 3.14159265

People who do yoga can read your mind.

Beware the Contest Prize Winner Who Has Yet to Collect Her Winnings

First they win one or two little contests, and they laugh and say "Oh it's really no problem that you haven't sent me the stuff you promised yet. I can wait."

Before you know it they have gained control of your soundman's mind by forcing him to slam a zillion Jager bombs and making him stay up all night in a casino. A couple of years later they assure you, after winning EVERY OTHER contest you ever have, that "not getting any prizes at all, even though a heck of a lot of interest has accrued, is really really okay."

If you've been through all of that like we have, you better start to worry that your Contest Prize Winner is after something much much bigger - your eternal soul.
Pictured here with Larry and a total stranger is Deanna, Winner of Every Prize Not Won by Melissa "Mole," not pictured here but equally clever and out to get us.

Thursday, October 04, 2007

Amazing Scientific Discoveries, Part 1

When he's not holed up in The Seagulls Foundation's top secret basement laboratory, Josh hangs out at the public library, enjoying a good graphic novel and a refreshing carbonated beverage(decaf, please!) or just shooting the breeze with amateur anthropologists. This week, he uncovered a little known historical fact: cell phones weren't very popular in the 80s.
A picture of Guido Menudo taking an important call during a song. This couldn't have happened in the 80s. Or could it?

Wednesday, October 03, 2007

Working the Bootyus Maximus

It must be Wednesday if Electric Larry, Dr. T, and Lynndi Lauper are chillin at Absolute Body Conditioning class, waiting for some bass players to show up. Our custom jumpropes have been pre-tested on barefeet, so we're ready to go.

David Lee Roth - "I used to jog but the ice cubes kept falling out of my glass."

Brat Pack Automation

In an effort to reduce the minuscule amount of physical labor that I do, I have invented “Roadie-Bot.”

Roadie-Bot does some amazing things. He carries gear with unprecedented strength. He convinces previously impervious fans to purchase T-Shirts and CD’s. And, perhaps most important, he is completely immune to the sexual advances that the many HOT lady-fans of The Brat Pack normally direct towards me.

I’m not sure how to thank Roadie-Bot for his help. I think maybe his next quart of 10W-40 is on me.

Tuesday, October 02, 2007

Amazing Scientific Discoveries, Part 0.666

Using the most advanced, top secret, costly technology, blogger is able to figure out if you are a robot, and it will let you know within 24 hours.

Most of you probably already knew that, so allow me to blow your mind with another Amazing Scientific Discovery about blogger. It can actually DELETE your blog from someone else's link list without them knowing it! Or maybe not!

It's An 80s Movie, Dammit

I know this guy who knows this guy who knows this guy who knows this guy who knows this guy who knows this guy who knows this guy's BROTHER who posted this in the comments section of a blog somewhere out there. Be sure to watch it with your eyes closed because it changes everything.

Tales of the Roadie

I think it's worth mentioning that there's a new Tales of the Roadie question-and-answer entry on my MySpace blog.

Monday, October 01, 2007

Amazing Scientific Discoveries, Part 0.25

Earlier this evening, I checked in with Josh of Seagull's computational myophysiology team leader, Dr. T, and learned what that group has been working on in the Seagulls Foundation's top secret basement laboratory. I can't tell you all the details because they're very scientific, but I came away with one exciting conclusion of their well-funded research: never jump rope in bare feet.

Isn't It About Time for a Picture of Tom's Crotch?

The Truth about Our Many Wounds

I'm sorry to disagree with the darling Mr. Kendells, but this week we can barely declare an Injury of the Week for all the trials we have endured! See how well we buck up that our road/stage/lifestyle manager didn't even realize the depth of our anguish?

Slipped Tongue. Poor Tommy Tubular. He had more malapropisms than he has in a long time. This could be evidence of his previous tongue injury (from foot in mouth) not responding well to therapy (washing it out with soap.) Larry checked the gear and couldn't find any electronic cause for Tommy's recent vocal impairment. Should we worry that he's in the early stage of AtM Disorder?

Split Fingertips.You and I can laugh all we want about dry peeling splitting skin and make fun of people who buy and use expensive, girly moisturizers. We can think of them as suckers, but when they start slamming those crusty bleeding digits across a keyboard, all I can say is OW OW OW. You better believe Jesse Van Halen was hitting the Spongebob bandages hard.

Scorched Retina. Oh my eyes will probably never recover from the things I saw this weekend. I'm thinking about assembling a team of top ophthalmologists, opticians, behavioral optometrists, vision therapy providers, CGI animators, and corneal topographers.

Menudo Gets the Last Word. So there we were at the end of Saturday night's exciting visit to Tailgater's in Bolingbrook, reminiscing about all the fun we had. Guido smiled as he lifted the million pound steel plates and said he had saved the worst job for last. I was blathering on and on about how amazing it was to get through the whole weekend without anyone being clobbered by those plates. Just then, Guido set the plate down and bent over to hold his shin.

Only one minor injury!

Kudos to the band for not having any major injuries this weekend. That's a nice change.

I heard that Guido had a "plate" related incident, but it apparently didn't deter him from cheering on his White Sox! Hope you enjoyed the game dude! (You certainly didn't enjoy the Chi-Bear's game.)

I trust that God will ensure that we have an equally safe couple of gigs next week. I'm sure because we wish only happiness to all that we see.

In the mean time, be good, or not. I really don't care.