new from Gallow Slutt enterprises...

starring Tom Cruise.

while going home to his fiance for christmas, Jock Strap (Tom Cruise, days of thunderpants, mission irreversible 2: lost in new york)'s FED EX(tm) plane is struck by a furious tropical storm and crash-lands on a deserted mid-pacific paradise. although the only survivor, Strap suffers from massive internal haemorrhages, and dies within hours of freeing himself from the fuselage; the rest of the film consists of time-lapse footage of his corpse decaying over the next two years.

so.. a couple of new jokes. the first one, here, made Thom and Luarence laugh down the pub. if you don't find it funny, it's probably because you don't have a penis. unlike rachel, in my dream this morning.

Why is a girlfriend like a bus?

because you wait ages for one... and then she rips your heart out and fucking stamps on it.

i want to use the feed-line as the title for rebessica's first ep. the punch line can be underneath the cd (in a secret booklet... printed only in glow in the dark ink...) i did want to call it 'pretty girls make cakes' but i think that's a good name for the one that's currently titled 'small/far away'. as i saw saying to abi from the formerly-titled Drop Dead Dave last night, i come up with more good titles for songs/ bands than actual riffs/opportunities.

reminds me of the bloodhound gang cd 'use your fingers', which had (to the effect of) 'what's ugly, smelly, stupid, and likes the bloodhound gang? (see other side writen on the front of the cd. i liked that.

whilst we are on the subject of cool guys called jeffrey (see here, and here) - overcompensating.

oh, and i finally found out what it means to be on the Ephel Duath Street Team; it means someone emails you the day before and says you can have some free tickets if i collect people's email adresses. did they think that i checked email every day? did they not think that i might already have a ticket?

ah, yes; the duath. they promised us a big surprise; it was awesome. they had a live trombonist, fatterning out the sound and doing everything as they should. the new arrangements were subtley different; last time i saw them, they were pretty much playing the tracks off 'the painter's pallette' without the melodic singer, and using the odd backing tape for sound effects, like the trumpet on 'the passage'. now they've really cleaned up their act, between the new trombonist and the screamer, they've hacked up the parts nicely, as well as filling in the need for a second guitarist. i'm sure the actual music was different too, but i can't remember how; i was surprised a couple of times when te songs didn't do what i expected them to (i say this with some irony).

poison the well - ahh, never mind.

but the Plan were just phenomonal. i gave myself a stitch dancing to 'when good dogs..', after which i couldn't quite get the energy back as from when we were dancing by the edge - couldn't see them, but we had more room. we moved into the middle after a few songs, just behind the moshpit. some girls brought them cans of tuna, after they asked for food on their website. my dreams do't come true very often, but i had one where we forgot to bring them anything (i wanted to get them something from grubb's). and then we went backstage and met the Duath, but the bouncers wouldn't let us back out front! so we missed the show.

did Luciano remember you from that gig in Leeds? did he? no. he remembered me though. mmhmm. so bought the red t-shirt and both badges. i asked Davide where he got the band's ties. he said: 'my mother!' of course. you're Italian. like maybe someone else. except he might not be Italian... he might be gay. or just somehow, inexplicably, cool.

joke two: the 'duck' joke. it follows the tired format of 'man short of money walks into a brothel', since it origanted from a mis-expected punchline of such a joke; you know how i love to subvert the genres. it ahs evolved since then, and an art twist has been added.

so it's Berlin, 1937. Hans, on his way home from work, wheels his barrow of money to the Brothel, and enters. the pimp, Dieter, is manning the counter. 'Dieter,' he says, 'my old friend. it has been a bad week for me; i have only 35,000 Marks to pay you with. please, can you find someone for me to loosen my seed into?' Dieter says, 'my friend, you are a loyal and valued customer. everyone is having a bad week at the moment. i can't do you any deal, but i'll see what i can find for that money.' Dieter exits and inits. he is followed by a beautiful, blonde, buxom, bona fide lass. Hans looks on in astonishment. 'Dieter, you service me a great favour that one day i hope to repay you,' he says. he takes the whore down the corridor... and then he... dyswidt?

so the next week, Hans' business is a little brisker. he is spotted pusing two barrows of money down to Dieter's brothel, with a gay swing in his step.
'my good man, this week, i bring you twice the money i brought you last week. here is 70,000 marks. maybe you bring me something twice as gut, ja?'
this time Dieter is followed in by an almost identicle looking blonde buxom lass. Hans waits a couple of seconds, looks through the door to see if anyone else is coming.. and his smile fades. he says to Dieter, 'my friend, what is this? last week you said you could not do me a deal; you gave me a woman for 35,000 Marks. this week i bring you twice the amount, and you give me a woman that looks just the same? how can you justify this insult?
Dieter keeps his calm. 'but Hans, this woman is not Jewish.'

i think i'll go now.
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