Happy Birthday Geoff!!!
Geoff = Sorry
Geoff’s Funeral
Geoff = Pretentious Asshole
Geoff Gets It On At the Mall
Geoff’s BD Newsbomb
Geoff Is Scared
Geoff Gets Fishy
Geoff Hates Pit Bulls

K-Kid
First Beer
What Can You Break?
Mickey’s Party
Heck Sunscreen
Blankets Can Be Found Anywhere
Climategate Faked
G20 = Burn, Canada, Burn
Mary Kate & Ashley Olsen’s Dad = Broke
Disperse

Al & Tipper
Ross’ Haircut
Allergic
Rowan’s Birthday
Silly Bands & Jelly Shoes
H1N1 Overhype?
Light the Gulf on Fire
Cheap Beer Roundup
First Internet Purchase

J Day!
Meeting J
Biggest Brain Dick?
Sock Suspenders
Murse
We Need More Things That Are Things
Stop Smoking- Get Diabetes
Nanananananananana
Oprah. Con?
Lesbian Talk Show Hostesses

In this hour, the focus was all on Geoff. For someone who seems to always want to be the center of attention, Geoff sure didn’t like having all these gifts and cake showered on him in honor of his 31st birthday this week. Ross brought over some espresso to give us all a pre-show pep, Mickey got Geoff some material so he can bring back the Weekly Constitutional, J got him some kind of rapist, Asian-killing, action figurine, and I got him some awesome sweatpants. I cannot wait to see him in those!

Man Things: Mickey cut his own hair, Ross’s kid preemptively fought off an intruder, Geoff shopped, and J kicked down a wall which you can see here! WARNING: Do not have cereal, spaghetti, soup, coffee, curry, or anything else that might easily splash or hurt coming up your nose as you will laugh.

In this, our finest hour, we discussed Bad shoes, Bacon lasagna Fail, and we hark the Harold Anal Gel regarding a holiday of such stupendous splendifferanimousacity, I just don’t have the words.

It’s almost Mickmas, kids, and that puts us at SomaCow in a giving mood. So much so, that we have gifted YOU, the teeming masses of the Heard, with an opportunity to own some cotton! I am talking about T-shirts, people. They are on sale, they are nifty, and you can buy them here.

Mickey is aging again, apparently. I know this will sound odd, but… I have now known Mickey for, like, 9 years.

He doesn’t change.

Like, okay, you know how he is always dieting? HE NEVER LOSES WEIGHT. And it’s not that he is fat, cause he never GAINS weight. He doesn’t age, his voice doesn’t change, his skin, hair, eyes, demeanor, style, and the cut of his very jib are the EXACT SAME as the day I met him.

I am starting to think he might be a T-1000.

So, what do you buy for the man who thinks he knows everything? I’ve been on the horns of this dilemma since ten minutes ago, when my wife leaned over and said, “hey, it’s Mickey’s birthday soon.”

Do I go full man, maow maow man and buy him something for his bike? His truck? His gun?

Do I go sentimental, and make him a scrapbook of all the great time he and J saw eye to eye on a matter?

Do I get him a pony? A hooker? A hookah? A snapdragon? Peas? A Tattoo? A Dog?

I know this much… He does a lot around this website. The forums, the files, the audio uploads and clean ups, the whipping of the Production Staff, the flogging of the Hopper, the fighting of various and sundry virii, the drafting of graphics, the forming of ideas…

Christ… What do EYE do around here? Besides bitch and blog poorly?

http://www.twitter.com/somacow – +1 point for every positive tweet you send his way about him. No cap. Make sure you use the hashtag #Mickmas

If you have a Mickey in your life, hug him! Let him know how much he means to you!

In this hour, we celebrated two years of phenomenal, swollen, and delicious podcasting. I did not know back then what the show would evolve into, but I like where it is going. One of our listeners has recently decided to go back and listen to the first 100 episodes of the show, and upon taking an earful of that… Holy Johnnycakes, man.

There is a significant difference from what we did in 2007 versus what we do now. In the past, I would rant and rave about THE THOUSAND INJURIES suffered at the hands of society I had borne, Mickey would tell long-winded stories about Steel, the Navy, Georgia, moving from Georgia to escape Steel and join the Navy, hating and loving the Navy while serving on a Steel boat and glad to be rid of Georgia, and Boobs. J would sit in silence, watching our furious back and forth and occasionally coughing between News Bombs.

Now, the show is a snap whiz sheboingo of  me ranting and raving about perceived injustices great and small, Mickey telling long winded stories about Alloys, Georgia, and his service in The Military. J now has a cough button, and he talks over us more. Oh, and we added Ross, a polarizing producer and twitterer extraordinaire that does a fine job of whatever it is that he does here, because it sure as hell isn’t making a decent cup of coffee.

I am really not kidding. Everyone remembers “the incident”, when he salted my drink seconds before a show, then played innocent, stating that he thought a giant container brimming with white crystals beside the coffee maker would contain only sweet minerals. This time, he tokes his way into my kitchen, Bob Marley music humming in his head, and ladles spoiled cream (like, spoiled in March, and this is April) into my java. The dude is trying to kill me. I thought it was his way of “trying to get me to get my own coffee”, but, the weird thing is that he ALWAYS offers to get it for me. Lord knows how much Rosspittle is floating in my stomach by now. Freak.

So, yes, we’ve morphed, changed, and continue to become whatever it is we are. I lose weight, Mickey starts drinking again, J is a rock, never changing, always late, and Ross is coming into his own as content contributor and host-poisoner. It’s fun, this show!

Our new Studio G continues to be constructed, with the electrician scheduled for this week, hopefully to be wrapped up before Friday. Hope you have enjoyed the last two years. Without one missed show, always fresh content, three days a week, 52 weeks a year, even on Holidays.

Did you use Napster? You pirate, you, Arrrr. If you haven’t already, check out this.

SomaCow, we may be funny or sad, we may be interesting or dull… But we are, at all times, consistent.

And persistent.

And perspiring. Seriously. That studio is an OVEN.

Today marks a turning point in our show.  For starters, we need to step up security.

The host has been infiltrated by OPEC (allegedly) Operatives trying to dismantle out “Gas will be one dollar per gallon by March of 2009″ rumor.  “They”, who(m)ever “They” maybe, also kidnapped Jen (Geoff’s Hippie Wife).  They forced her to call me at midnight (Geoff doesn’t answer his phone – he just has Jen answer for him – so you can see the logic loop on her calling him after being kidnapped) to let me know she was being held hostage and that they were taking down our server.

I received word this morning from our production staff (who worked tirelessly, actually, they have tires, their just really bald at the moment until they can get the production truck to a Tire Kingdom, through the night) that Jen was rescued.

Our production staff is awesome.  They are like a SEAL Team, only, less trained, less in shape, and less good looking, not very well armed… ok… they are nothing like a SEAL Team, but they get shit done, thanklessly, quickly, and without any recognition.  And that is the way we like it.

When Jen has recovered from the ordeal, and she can decypher the cryptic Rossian Code, she will update the blog for you fine folks.

—Jens update can be found here—

Another major turning point for the show is that now Geoff is older.  Today is his Birthday.  Wish him a happpy birthday.  Down below.  In the comments.  Down there.  Go.  Do it now.  I’ll wait…

…

Back?  Ok… Wait.  You didn’t comment.  Stop fucking with me.  Go comment now and wish the man a happy birthday.  It’s not like I am asking you to buy him a gift.  A simple comment saying “Joyeux Anniversaire!” or “Happy, Birthday, Eh” if you are from Canadia.  “Bonne Fete!  Eh?” If you are from French Canadia.

As a Hungarians chick would say, “Boldog szuletesnapot!” or “Isten eltessen!” depending  on how Hungarian she is.

Happy Birthday Geoff… may you have many more!

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Ross came in a little late this week but all he missed in the notes was some talk about him…being late…

But we don’t blame him too much, after all the night before was his birthday party where trivia and beer abounded! He came in and jumped right on his job and then handed out beer. That took away a bit of the pain of him being late. Good call, Ross! Geoff, Mickey and I (not J) got him some funky beer from Total Wine which is a mecca of alcohol! Thank god for dear friends having birthdays so we could check out this place. And thank god for those dear friends sharing it with us.

Speaking of dear friends, we sure do miss the hell out of one big bastard. Come home lil doggy!

Have you ever had sun tea? It’s a tradition… or a staple… what is that word? Well, we do it here in the south! You take tea but instead of making it inside you put it outside… in the sun. My mom used to do this all the time but I didn’t like tea at the time. Why don’t northerners make sun tea? They still could, for a few weeks each August? I guess we just do it more often here since we can do it all but a week in January and a week in February. And in other things the south just does better (yes, I’m trying to rile you all up, come on Yankees!)

At Ross’s party we had a thing called a rib nibbler. They were little bite size chunks of rib (bone-in) and they were GOOD. I didn’t try the ribs but from what I hear these were better than their specialty of baby back ribs! They didn’t even need any dressing.

Speaking of dressing, Paul Newman died. I’d say it was bad that current generations knew him more for his salad dressing but he has stated that he enjoyed that more and he made more money for it so good for him! We did lose a good liberal in that man though. RIP Mr Newman.

I thought I had finally found something to pick on Ross for as there was no music listed but then I remembered from listening live Saturday from 1-4 PM Eastern, that there was no music as we had a twitter pal of Ross‘ call in! Thanks for the great call Mister32.

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In this episode the guys talk about beefs, small packages, and porn!

You know, having a baby sure does change your life. And I’m not talking about the physical act of birthing the baby, I mean just having one around. You might say “duh” but let me tell you… For the last 9 years, until 4 months ago, Geoff was a night owl. He would be up until 1 am easily watching TV, playing on the computer… I can’t count the number of times I fell asleep sitting up just trying to keep up with him. But that baby…you suddenly have all of these new worries, or, if they are the same worries, they are 10 times more worrisome now… Is the baby eating enough? Too much? How will I pay for her college? Is she happy? Will I lose my job? Who will watch her? Will she take the bottle???

And while I worry about them, Geoff works 60 hour weeks, puts on a great show, and spends as much time as he can with Rowan, all along worrying about the above and 100 other things. I’m glad he worries, I’m glad to know I’m not alone, and it’s good he thinks about these things and doesn’t just shrug things off until the worst happens.The worrying never goes away, though, does it?

So anyway, yeah, I’m using this blog space to type this (what else will I do with the notes I have ha! *wink*) as Geoff has passed out next to me at 9 PM and has to be up again early tomorrow morning. I’ll be sure to also throw his bedtime clothes on.

So in this episode, where Geoff, Mickey, J, and the live chatroom were definitely not sleeping, McDonalds was blamed for the meatpocalypse. Then Mickey talked about his small package and gave us all an update. Thanks Mickey!

After that they went into porn and the Chinese Milk drama. I can not wait to go back and listen to THAT segue!

Most importantly, birthdays were talked about. Who doesn’t love a birthday?? Well, Ross is hitting a big one (not the rolled up or water or gravity style, his age silly) and we hear he is having some kind of get together. Rumor has it maybe some trivia involved? We are so there!

So Ross, Happy Birthday. Despite what the song says, you are special!

And Geoff’s birthday is coming up and we are planning some mega-eating for that one. Check in, we’ll keep you posted on where and when but for now, pencil in Saturday, October 25th for some eating!

And in this week’s Weekly Constitutional (which he really does have to do in the bathroom, when else would he have time?) Geoff laments the fact that his Borders was going out of business. The only good thing? The number of books he got for next to nothing! But it is sad…all the little independent stores are practically gone and now the big ones, too?

What isn’t gone is our great music played this episode:

• Dirty Wormz – Top of the Food Chain
• No More Kings – God Breathed

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In this hour, we celebrated the birth of Star Wars and discussed some LucasNuts decisions, we talked about my adventures as a Skee-Ball champion, and we weighed in on the way a man drinks soda.

I got to check out the new Indiana Jones movie with some good friends this weekend, and am somewhat frustrated with myself. I sat down in the theater and swore to myself that I would NOT judge this movie with my 29 year old eyes. I would approach it with the same mindset of a kid, not looking for plotholes and campyness, but really enjoying the adventure and wonder of it all. I cannot say that I came away “cheated” of my money. I just feel that this movie should have been made about 10 years ago. Harrison Ford would have been the right age, the sweep of the story would still have been culturally relevant, and the special effects would have fit right in. Sadly, after seeing movies like National Treasure, shows like Heroes, and all these other new “bar-setters”, I just don’t think Spielberg and Lucas can deliver the power, wonder, and significance they once did. I definitely would say go see the movie. I am simply sad to report that I did not walk out filled with the electricity of it all. Maybe I am just numb and fat and old. But so are you.

Got the chance to check out one of those new Bowling/Bar/Arcade and Family Entertainment complexes, this one went by the name of the Firken and Bageutte, or something. It was neat, and offers huge bowling, drinking, and eating chances, but somehow, I spent my whole day in the arcade/midway thing, creeping out the kids and struggling vainly to beat my wife… at skee-ball. The woman is a damned ringer, and never had a game below 20,000 points. I was somewhat irritated to see how popular the “Put in a dollar, have no chance of winning the jackpot, walk away with 10 or less consolatory tickets” games were. Is that good for our kids? To teach them from such a young age that all that glitters is a lie, and no one wins big, and if you want the really cool prize, it’s gonna cost you more time and money and effort than you could ever muster? Maybe it is. Not everyone can be President, Billy, and certainly not you. Stupid crane games.

J’s son celebrated a birthday, as did Listener Mustang Sally, and Miz Mel and Kim of 2Broadscast.com – I don’t know why, but a lotta people must hump on Labor Day weekend! My own daughter was due to come into this world today per our calculations, but we aren’t going to start worrying if she hasn’t shown up til June. Who wants to bust up a three-day weekend with a bunch of pushing and groaning and stress, yeah? Plenty of time for that later.

We rounded out the hour with some fast food talk and cup discussion. All our talk about massive quantities of soda forces me to ask: IOCL? And, are we downing too much damned soda, as a people? No one should be drinking 48 oz of anything in one sitting. How much of the carbonated beverage do you go through in a week, Heard?

We guzzled down the following great bands:

• Straight Outta Junior High – Love Song
• Ann Beretta – Bottlecaps

Thanks to Geoff and Mickey for keeping the elderly jokes down in the triple digits.

d00d, I’m NOT all that old.

One way you can tell that I am not all that old is that I just spelled “dude” in the vernacular of “the kids today”. That is because I am a baller who is also dope and, possibly, fly.

So what’s up wit all dat old-people stuff directed at me, yo?

Word!

Crib!

Posse!

Just because I drive at speeds inversely proportional to my age, such that, should I live to be older than 70 I will actually be driving in reverse; and just because nearly every gift I received this year contained some form of bran; and just because I got flashed by a young hottie during my birthday visit to Burlington Coat Factory, which caused me to exclaim “My GOD! These coats are on clearance for only $29.99!”…doesn’t mean that I am getting old.

Good lookin’ out, dawg!

Iced-out grill!

Badonkadonk!

I can still hang with the younger crowd. I can still shake my grooved thing. I can still make young, twenty-something girls gasp when I pass by, and whisper excitedly to each other “You have mace in your purse, right?”. I can still bust a movement, thanks to all that bran.

Sure, maybe I DO wear my pants pulled up so high that my belt more closely resembles a push-up bra. Maybe I DO like to fall asleep at 8:30pm to the phat breakbeats of Fox News commentator Bill O’Reilly.

And maybe I DO have a tiny bit of a middle-aged spread around the tummy department that makes my cellphone ring in my front pocket every time I bend over. None of that makes me OLD, bitches!

Don’t make me bust a capsule of laxative in yo’ ass.

Someday, you might just find YOURSELF staring down the business end of a bran birthday cake.

Peach out, my brothels.

There are no bones about it; we spend quite a bit of time discussing J in this hour, and then later we touch on J, followed by quite a lengthy dissertation by Mickey on the subject of J.

J likes riddles, and so, I will simply convert this episode’s blog to a series of three riddles. See if you are smart enough to come up with the answers. Try not to cheat, you silly little Googlizers!

1) – There are at least ten body parts that are spelled in three letters. Can you name them all?

2) – With pointed fangs it sits in wait, With piercing force it doles out fate, Over bloodless victims proclaiming its might, Eternally joining in a single bite. What am I?

3) – I’m a riddle in nine syllables,
An elephant, a ponderous house,
A melon strolling on two tendrils
O red fruit, Ivory, fine timber!
The loaf’s big with its yeasty rising
Money’s new minted in this fat purse.
I’m a means, a stage, a cow in calf.
I’ve eaten a bag of green apples
Boarded the train there’s no getting off.

So, yeah. Have fun with that!

We talked about J, sure, and then did a decent discussion on Mr. John McCain, who seems to need a rage doll. The man just gets into fits, and we are not so sure that is a bad thing. Better to be angry, but smart, than a complete boob. I am still pulling for Mr. Obama, as he is certainly capable of bringing eloquence back into vogue. Just look at that sentence! It REEKS of vocabulary!

Hillary? Bitch, please. I hate to relegate such a powerful woman null, but the reality is that her very actions have done that FOR her for the last twenty years. Forget all the republican spewed vitriol about “not pleasing her man” and “knowing her place”. I like a strong woman. I just feel that she is duplicitous and does not have the best interest of this nation in her “to do” list. The woman is avarice personified, and lacks genuine empathy. Or at least, that is what I know for a complete fact, having never met the woman, nor spent any real time in her company.

See, that is what I hate about the internet. Four billion yahoos yammering off their fool heads about subjects that they have no idea about. It’s sort of beautiful, isn’t it?

Okay, Heard – We haven’t really boiled it down, but – who do you want as President, and why? What is important to you now? The War? The Economy? The Food Prices? Black Preacher Etiquette? Sound off, and get into the discussion. I want to actually participate in this year’s election, instead of voting the way my wife’s dad tells me to. Let’s hear what you think, and maybe elect the better candidate.

Time Magazine turns 85, and I am lining up to be the first to pull the m’f'ing plug. DNR, all the way. What a travesty, that these people are paid any money to develop news content. I have spent time in waiting rooms, flipping through that particular week’s articles, and actually come away from Time Magazine DUMBER than I was about the subject when I sat down. Misinformation, second hand sourcing, and late-late-late breaking news. Time Magazine is news at the speed of fail.

In fact, we’d be alright with it if someone were to take Time, modern Pundits, and whoever beta tested Vista, and put them in a small room with no windows for a very long time.

Oh, and Ross was booted off the mic for the very first time! Tune in to hear why, as it will probably be an answer in whatever elaborate and unnecessarily complex trivia contest we next host.

You know who DOESN’T have suckers on their appendages? These fantastic bands!:

• All Time Low – This Is How We Do
• Toy Gun Cowboy – 99.9%