So Mickey is looking to move. In this market, should he take the plunge and buy? Or keep on renting? I mean renting at least you wouldn’t have to climb on the roof, crawl around the attic, replace the wet carpet, pay to have the a/c recharged, mow the lawn, clean the pool, shock the pool, chlorinate the pool…shit.
Hulk-a-datea? Now that Hulk has gotten his divorce, what will his next stunt be? Hogan dates best?
Geoff doesn’t like summer or Muscular Dystrophy…June through Labor Day must be some rough days for the guy…
In local news, the search for Caylee Anthony is everywhere so of course our A#1 newshound, J, wants to get in on the action. Go for it J, in the name of SomaCow! (and write a damn blog about it)
This week, Geoff reviewed Goodnight Moon, one of my favorite children’s books. This leads into a discussion of the best children’s books out there…and how the Bible needs to be rewritten.
Oh! And SomaCow LOVES Neil Patrick Harris. Have you seen Dr Horrible? If not, shame on you (and now you have no excuse!)
Well, Geoff is off at sensitivity training learning not to call black people ‘monkeys’, or Asians ‘Alien slanteyes’. Hopefully.
And while he’s off learning to not call people “durka durkas” vs “woo woos”, I’m here at home watching Anthony Bourdain. See, I know that when Geoff comes home he will want to watch him again so that means double Anthony for me! I think if we ever had a third person it would be him…
So let’s see how the guys do with this more sensitive side of SomaCow. Any ideas on a punishment if they fall into their old ways?
Geoff finished Stardust and gives his final review. Is it a children’s book? (If you would like to sponsor this, or any other segment, email me, Jen, at somacow@gmail.com)
Listen to me, folks, and listen good. We talked about a range of subjects in this hour, including Mickey’s birthday, turkey legs and sundry street food, and the need for Mike Myers and Adam West to do something useful with their autumnal years, but none of that matters.
What matters is that you understand Joe Piscopo is crap. If you already know this to be true, skip along with your bad self, and enjoy this episode. The rest of you, hold still for a moment.
Born Joseph Charles John (already, what the fuck?? What kind of insane parent names their fucking kid Joe Chuck John? RABID WEASEL PARENTS, that is who. And Joe Piscapoe is their perfect weasel child. Bready of eye, rank of fur, he wriggles and slashes his way from project to project, spreading mediocrity and gayish gauntness to the small screen like some kind of Rotten Johnny Weaselseed. But there is no fooling us here at SomaCow, JoeChuck. We know you for what you are – talentless also-ran base faced eater of broken meats)!
In all sincerity, we wish Mickey a Happy Birthday and discuss the finer points of SNL cast members, least of which is certainly Joe Pisscapough, who not only lied about the evidence that lead this great nation into armed conflict against Iraq, but also was probably responsible for the 400 years of oppression forced upon black men and women long ago.
That was probably offsides, and it really isn’t my intention to list off the terrible crimes against humanity that Joe Pizzapoke has wrought. But, as long as there is white on my screen and honor in my heart, the truth will out! Nefarious bastard!
Anyway, we played the following great bands, none of which do hackneyed impressions of Frank Sinatra ad nauseum. Unless we played Richard Cheese, but I think he does a lovely Frank. Ad Nauseum.
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