SomaCow

Originally caterwauled at SomaCow.com

So it’s no secret by now, but if you missed the video of our own Mickey and Ross invading PTG’s karaoke night with their… rendition of Total Eclipse of the Heart, then hie you hence hereabouts and watch it up, won’t you?

I am home with a sick little one tonight, the miasma of baby toss and baby wind surrounds me. I decided to catch up on some TV, but after watching Colony, all I have left is More to Love. Nasty, nasty, nasty.

In this hour, we discussed Beards, Waitress Flirting, Karaoke Rules, and Scams.

I saw on the news that teens do not use twitter anymore, nor facebook, nor myspace. My only question is, “Where did they all go?” So we can find out and go make that place lame, too.

I am supposed to be at a Tea Tasting Party right now. I sure hope I can make the next one. I was hoping I could use it for my man segment this week on the show. There is nothing more manly than a two cubed Ploughman’s with an assortment of fragrant and fragile scones with clotted cream.

This blog is somewhat disjointed, because I keep looking up at More to Love. They are ALWAYS EATING. The guy is such a douchrhetoric spewing machine.

I still have not shaved. Need to before tomorrow, cause we is gonna be on TeeVee! YEE H A W !

We had peaches this week from EricathePimp. They were pretty damned tasty.

You know how you have all these bones in your foot, called metatarsels and tarsels and tartar sauce and what not? In my big left toe, after the second to last joint, I have no bone. Just powder. I crushed it walking my Siberian Husky, Isis. Lifted my leg to step over a concrete tire-stop in a parking lot whilst barefoot. BLAMMO. The podiatrist said, “That’s the weirdest thing. You have no bone.”

I have mad bone.

I really hope Mister32 did his manchallenge this week.

Now these fat women are saying “He is my soulmate!” The guy is a fat REAL ESTATE DEVELOPER. No developer has a soul. Silly fat women.

Gotta go, baby is making Linda Blair noises again. All my love!
Oh, and it means “Turn Around, Bright Eyes”. It’s episode 360, duh!

Tags: baby vomit, beard, colony, comedy, erica the pimp, facebook, fat, flirting, internet, karaoke, mister32, more to love, myspace, news 13, olde cup and saucer, orlando, Podcast, prime time geek, radio, scams, somacow, talk, tea tasting, teoth, total eclipse of the heart, twitter, waitress

Originally posted at SomaCow.com

In this hour, brought to you by HealingRoni Pizza Delivery, I came to a startling realization.

I had just kicked a key member of my show off, and it wasn’t J!

I was struck with the situation, namely, I had just sent Ross packing, he was already out the door, and I knew I had made a mistake. One of my greatest failings (there are many, stick around and try to make a list sometime) is that I rarely consider motive when I am upset. I am great at looking at the world through detached eyes, calmly surmising people and their actions and determining why they do the things they do. Or at least, that is what the tests I took on Spark told me in the nineties.

But when I am angry, miffed, peeved, slighted, insulted, chagrined, embarrassed, threatened, irritated, or pissy, all I see is red. I acted in haste, seeing Ross as out of line, and now what the hell was I going to do? For the first time in SomaCow history, a new show did not start at the top of the hour. I went out of the studio, and found Jen.

She was shocked, confused as to why things had gotten so serious, and she said Ross was already gone. I walked outside, with Mickey and J close behind (it was an opportunity for them to have an unscheduled smoke break, maybe?). I looked down the U of my street, left and right… No Ross. No car. Did he walk? How the hell had he vanished so quickly?

I knew I needed to call him. If I let it go to tomorrow, the bones would set that way, and there would be no repairing the damage done. I whipped out the iPhone, and immediately scanned Twitter.

“it just got real. ON Somacow. – ELROSS”

Well what the hell did THAT mean?

I called Ross.

“Hey, Ross?”

“Hey”

“Where are you?”

“Driving”

I was rapidly losing ground. I knew that if this call ended all jilted and stilted, I’d have to side with my ego, and began the laborious process of walling myself off from Ross. I played back the last year plus of our friendship. Ross and Gary, Ross and Halloween Horror Nights, Ross in a suit atop a bar in downtown Orlando, Ross at my garage sale, buying comics for the kid, and really just assuaging my wife with her pregnancy fears. Ross at dinner, Ross talking to me about impending fatherhood, Ross giving advice on Birthing Centers, Ross giving advice on B4D, Ross shoving us to a tweetup, where we met great peeps. Hours of Ross, handling production, getting guests in and TFO of the studio, calling shows pimping SomaCow, bringing over snacks, bitting with J, giving me shit about smoking because he doesn’t think I should die, Ross at Target, Ross and his many and varied Beard Competitions, Ross Ross Ross.

I couldn’t let him go. So I hatched a plan:

“You can’t leave. There’s Pizza coming.”

I know he saw through it. Mickey, J, Ross and I had a moment, there in that driveway. Why do I sound like Carrie Bradshaw all the sudden?
In this hour, we discussed the Tweetup at Eden at the Enzian, chatted with Etanowitz of the Orlando Sentinel, talked about gay bars, and patched hearts.

Tags: argument, beard, birth center, carrie bradshaw, comedy, eden, elross, enzian, etanowitz, fight, gay bar, halloween horror night, internet, orlando, orlando sentinel, pasta, pizza, Podcast, pregnancy, radio, somacow, spark, talk, tweetup, twitter

CNN reports that Iran has banned western style haircuts and eyebrow plucking for men. Is there any honor greater than dying for the rat tail? I submit that there is not.

I can only imagine this comes on the heels of Ahmadinejad being forced to share in man-love, another western delicacy. Note the hammy hands, urging him on, compelling him to yield to the swarthy love that dare not speak its name…

In all honesty, I like Iranian haircuts. Kinda remind me of Yakov Smirnoff. The male terrorists on 24 are always sporting some cunning coifs, and they manage to look menacing, but clean. Besides, the world is simply not ready for Iranian Emo.

It brings up the question, were this your world, and if you were the Head Banana, what hairstyle would you nip in the bud? For me, it’s gotta be…

… the spit curl.

Tags: ahmadinejad, beard, gay, haircut, iran, kiss, mackmood, makmum, man, smooch, spit curl