SomaCow

SomaCow Media, Inc, is proud to present SomaCow, brought to you in this hour by SomaCow on Facebook, Myspace, Twitter, and Pageflakes. Get up on us, yo!

In this hour, we discussed Dinner AND a Show, the dispirited nature of cynicism (whatever), and we began our long, heralded path to the glory of the FatManLympics.

Ah, eating, and watching local actors ply their trade, forced into various stale settings, made to speak lines that shove the plot and the house red wine down the patrons’ throats, giving their very best in the sporadically dim spotlight, casting their various and sundry pearls before so much blue haired swine. These, these happy few… What the hell is wrong with me? Anyway, TCTMID had a birthday at Capone’s here in Orlando, and that got us to talking about the many different dinner theaters here in town. Do you have such places near you, and are they grand, or hideous? We’re considering a SomaCow Outing at Medieval Times, or somewhere else, per your suggestion. I really just want to see J get attacked by a falconer.

We also talked about the rise of the internet cynic, a common theme on this show. For too long people sit and stare at their screens, artfully selecting the perfect chemistry of typeface and lack of punctuation, delicately aiming their dart of derision into any form of creative creation. We’re sick of seeing it, from Youtube to Fansites and everywhere in between. If you cannot add to something, you should end your life. Or, at the very least, spend less time with things you hate. Or just come here. We’ll always have you, you cute li’l hater, you.

To tell you the truth, I forgot much of what else we discussed (I think I reviewed Duma Key by Stephen King, with Elross, but that might have just been an undigested-blot-of-mustard-inspired dream). What REALLy matters is the FatManLympics! We need events, we need sponsors, and we need black unitards (they’re slimming)! We’re nailing out the details even now, so if you have an event you would like to see J, myself, and whatever other fat men we can muster compete in, speak up, son. Sound off like you’ve got a pear.

I, personally, cannot wait for the Totino’s Party Pizza Snarf.

We munched on the following great bands in this hour:

Gogol Bordello – Alcohol
Go! Motion – A Broken Argument

Tags: capone's, comedy, dinner theatre, duma key, facebook, fatmanlympics, go! motion, gogol bordello, guys, independant, independent, internet, live, medieval times, music, myspace, orlando, pageflakes, Podcast, radio, somacow, stephen king, totino's party pizza, twitter

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Apr 18 2008

SomaCow 156: Uncle Ray Touched Me

Posted by: Geoff in Podcast

156: Uncle Ray Touched Me [59:33m]: Play Now | Play in Popup | Download

SomaCow Media, Inc. is proud to present SomaCow, brought to you in this hour by Copper Rocket. From Psychobilly to Comedy, this club has it all, plus a decent beer selection.

In this hour we discussed J and I’s visit to Open Mic Night, Comedy and Hecklers, and Book to Movie translations.

We headed out last Thursday to Copper Rocket, located next to the tracks that separate Eatonville from Maitland north of Orlando. It’s a good bar, the kind of place where the bartender has a Hunter S. Thompson shirt on and the seats are all knifed up by revelers past. We snuck into a decent seat right near the stage, and my pregnant wife Jen and I began the arduous task of pushing the table back and forth between our bellies. I was at a loss as to who should win, because, on one side, the table crushing her belly might mean the permanent disfigurement of our child, whereas if it were crushing my belly, I might be discomfited for a while. Thankfully, J arrived and we both opted to shove the table into his rapidly shrinking belly.

So, the comedy started up, and it was good. The emcee was a mic shouter, but in a club full of assholes that turn their back on the stage, that’s sort of to be expected. In all we saw about 10 comics, 5-6 of which were chicks. Some were fantastic, like Uncle Ray, Alicia, and Katie, and some were… well… They were working out the kinks of their act, let’s just say that. I found the room to be oppressive for comedy, and I think that went a long way towards showing the skill of some of these people. To generate laughs when you have a dull crowd, a weird lighting system, and one f^%$ed up redneck heckler can’t be easy.

And that heckler guy exercised every Floridian Redneck Retard Trait you can imagine. What? You’ve never heard of an FRRT? It’s how you spot the natives, people! Allow me to clue you in, so that you can keep an eye out for this truly rare and special breed. He frequents bars, clubs, Denny’s, and truck shows.

1. Hair – disheveled, lengthy, sweat soaked and yet buoyant. This guy may be balding, but he doesn’t let it faze him. Look for what appears to be a mid-eighties South Eastern Championship Wrestling style haircut, kinda like Sammy Hagar, but with no hint of product.

2. Skin – Slightly resembling Trashcan Man from The Stand by Stephen King. All visible areas will be lobster red, with deep seated melanoma from spending day after day toiling in the brush. This guy works hard, and it shows. Sure, we’ve had silly things like sunscreen, hats, and shirts for a few decades or so, but he is hesitant to change, cause chicks dig a nice dark 3rd degree tan.

3. Clothes – If you have ever been to a gas station on the wrong side of town, and seen an enormous box with what appear to be dirty shop rags spilling out of a funneled slot near the top, you have seen the FRRT boutique. Usually there is a strength in teals and yellows, but the occasional shirt sans sleeves is always appropriate, even on a 50 degree night. The gooseflesh really helps the blisters stand out, you know?

4. Shoes – Flip Flops or sandals. The bluer and rattier the better. The goal of all FRRT’s is to showoff their busted ass feet, which have had countless drills, bricks, car tires, and bottles smashed across them. Typically, an FRRT will grow hobbit fur on their toes to cushion the blow of these many accidents, and this fur they will groom fastidiously if given a second stool to hoist them up upon.

5. Accessories – Ah, here is where the FRRT shines! From the puka shell necklaces they got on Spring Break 32 years ago in Daytona before dropping out “for one semester”, to the sweat stained cigarette or blunt behind their ear, this guy knows how to bring an ensemble together. Look for sunglasses, even though it is 10:30 at night in the bar equivalent of the goddamned Bat Cave, a Firebird or Camaro keychain, and bus transfer tickets. I would say that the frothiest, most spillingest, stankest foamy beer you can imagine is also an accessory, but no FRRT has even been seen without one, and if he spills one, you can be damn sure he was two-fisting.

6. Eyes. Always vacant, they stare in a way that perfectly indicates how many miles of edging and blowing this one man has done in his life. Also, yellow. Very, very yellow. Jaundice, or gonorrhea? Something. Do not maintain eye contact with an FRRT exhibiting individual, for any reason. If you are a male, it will indicate your desire to fight, or discuss “The Mexicans”. If you are a woman, it will indicate your desire to copulate with him, and your need to also discuss “The Mexicans”.

Hope that helps!

Anyway, the gals and guys did a good job in the face of such adversity, and we’d definitely go back, and I think J wants to do a set, which would be a hoot that I will be sure to videotape for you all. Have you ever done an open mic night? How did it go?

We wrapped up with some discussion of Where the Red Fern Grows, which J and Mickey never read. I am beginning to think that the book topic may not be such a hot item, seeing as I work with two guys that spend more of their time staring at porn than they do anything else. Maybe I should do Porn Reviews, instead. At any rate, J hated Frankenstein for the dumbest reason I have ever heard. I actually bought him a puka shell necklace.

See you guys here next week, or, come join us in the Ustream for our show, Sunday at 2pm, Eastern. We’ll be giving away the iTouch live, so if you entered, good luck, and if you didn’t, well… damn.

We yukked it up to the following great musics in this hour: