SomaCow

 

 57: Salad, Hold The Muffin [59:59m]: Play Now | Play in Popup | Download

So here I am again, Jen the stoic producer, taking up the slack for the boys. Mickey has passed out on his keyboard, after making 52 of his 53 hour caffeine “I will stay awake” marathon, which looks something like this: sak;lhkgahgdhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.

J has grumblypants of the lungs and is high on some green liquid which is something like this sak’lhkgahgdhhhhhhgunugckumphff.

Geoff has injested an inhuman amount of Toxic Taco Bell and he sounds more like ughhhhhhhhhhhhhhblazzleblat!. And so I will take over the blog for today.

In this episode the boys of SomaCow show off their amazing predictory skills by noting that Fidel Castro is dead. And really, can anyone show any proof otherwise? I mean the guy hasn’t really been seen in a year! Those communists will just keep something down until absolutely necessary. Maybe our country can learn something from this…

J and Geoff bond over their intellectual side by reviewing some of the must read books out there. They agree on #1 which causes Mickey to call them geeks. While arguing with them over why they are geeks, Mickey showed everyone who the true geek is on the show.

And since I have control tonight, I, your faithful producer, will give you a little insight into what SomaCow means. SomaCow means powered by Jen. Ha! The Power!

And the music we played this week:

Drench – Texas
Stephen Lynch – Classic Rock Song
Blaqk Audio – Stiff Kittens (pink noise remix)
Helmet – See You Dead

I hate colds and flu.

I’m sick as a dog right now, but it’s not the weak and miserable feeling that I hate. It’s not the apologies I have to make when I blow snot onto someone’s Chik-n-Pattee with cheese, no mayo, at lunchtime, although that is the part that THEY hate. I don’t even mind the rectal thermometers so much, as long as I can make their use into a game of some kind:

“Vee haff vays of making you talk, Meester Bond!”

“Do your worst! I’ll never give you the microfilm!”

No, the most unbearable part to me is how really, phenomenally bad the cold and flu medicines taste.

I’ve tried capsules, and caplets and liqui-gels and cap-gel-pak-ettes and everything, but the only thing that will touch my symptoms is the dreaded tiny 2oz. plastic cup of gagging elixir.

They, meaning the boneheads at the pharmaceutical companies, try to pretend that they have gone to great lengths to give their vile concoctions a pleasant flavor. A few flavors that I have tried include:

Mint-o-burst: tastes like Jaegermeister, which I also can’t stand. Gets me more drunk than Jaeger does, though.

Golden Vanilla: reminiscent of ‘Nilla Wafers soaked in warm Evil, then dipped in artificially flavored vanilla goat turds.

Cherry: yeah, if the cherries are bursting with pus and septic tank residue. FYI, if you’re wondering whether it would taste just a tiny bit less foul if you put it on toast or a biscuit, sort of like cherry jelly, the answer is no.

So it’s time to take another dose right now, and I thought I would share the experience with you. Tonight’s aperitif is a fiesty little vintage from the Beaujolais region of Satan’s anus called “Contak Severe Cold: Extra-Putrid flavor”.

Here goes…

*gulp*

*ermphhhh*

*urlguhhhhack*

Well, I’m going to have to stop writing now and clean that up.

Then, I’m going to drink some “Mint-o-Burst” transmission fluid and go back to bed.

Wish me luck.

 

 56: What a Ray Crock [59:27m]: Play Now | Play in Popup | Download

Badah dah dah daaaah. I’m hatin’ it.

Apparently, after having my entirely easy order of two double cheeseburgers, plain, large french fry, big mac, large vanilla shake, and twenty chicken nuggets with sweet and sour sauce, plus two bonus cheeseburgers (just in case) screwed up last night, I am on a rant against America’s Fast Food Restaurant of choice.

And it’s a real shame, because Mickey has to spend the whole hour explaining to me how very wrong I am. I pity him his lot in life. Not to mention our dear old J, who spent the whole hour chewing at the belt straps, trying in vain to get out the door so that he could eat the foods we were discussing.

So, yeah, that sponsorship fell through. But hey, Backyard Burger, anyone?

In addition to my railing against the poisonous fare being served to decent folks around the world, we also discussed an experimental economy that disavowed corporations. If any of you conservative freakshows actually read Ayn Rand, you’d know that John Galt-ica or whatever silly mountain country she invented operated under exactly that premise. Taking the proprietor off the property is the worst thing to happen to business since human resources. Don’t agree? Sound off like you had a pair, yo.

We also discussed the brilliance of the diet fork. Right up there with the ol’ spoon with a hole in it, superglued fridge, and the ever witty nerf dentures.

We are happy to report that you may now bring a lighter on the plane. Finally, a weapon capable of doing battle with the countless serpents that continue to plague our mighty nation’s airplanes.

Speaking of Bad Ass MoFos, we played the following snake moans in this hour:

The Milwaukees-Moonshaker
Goodbye Gadget-I Wanna Be
In Stereo-Sweet Relentless You
Cobra Starship-Bring It

All that, plus strippers! In this, our finest hour.