Thursday, June 30, 2005

Gone fishin'

Kids are out of school, Live 8 is this weekend, bumper to bumper to cottage country....that's it, I'm outa here. There will be no post on Saturday, since I will be joining the Mayor for a pre-Pottahawk piss-up this weekend. I'm not ruling out Sunday as a day to Blog, but don't cross your fingers. It all depends on what time I get back, and what condition my condition is in. In the mean time, here is another Pottahawk moment from last year's best day ever.

T minus: 10 days and counting/ stu 10:17 Posted by Hello

Sunday, June 26, 2005

Pottahawk piss-up

Only two weeks remain until the best day ever arrives once again. Can it possibly top last year, or will the law of diminishing returns take over?

With such little time left to prepare, please make sure, if you will be in attendance, you have checked your list and will have all the essentials: Gold Speedo, water wings, and powder blue bathing cap. Also, know your bible verses. May I suggest Stu 10:17....then and only then will you be ready. Cannonball!!!!

Can you spot Waldo? Posted by Hello

Free Katie

If you feel that Tom Cruise has gotten a little, you know, fuckin' mental, and you fear for Katie then perhaps you should visit this next link and show your support. It's not too late....yet.

It's all fun and games until someone enters the working world

We here at strangedaze would like to almost congratulate our man Bob for almost graduating and wish him much success, ( said suck), in his future.

He is now off to Mexico where I'm sure he'll return with a nice tan and a touch of diarrhea.

Congrats to grads...ok almost Posted by Hello

Saturday, June 25, 2005

All the breast...I mean best

Congrats to Mark and Kelly who tied the knot today on the raging banks of the Highwood river in Alberta. He’s the one that looks like Trent Reznor and she’s the one who looks like she doesn’t work at Tim Hortons.

They were wed by Old St. Nick who due to those bastards at Canada Taxation, now has to moonlight as a minister to make ends meet.

We here at strangedaze would like to wish them much happiness. Did you ever notice that "happiness," sounds like, "I have penis," if you say it quick enough and slur it just a little?
Now they’re off to Mexico for their honeymoon. I’m sure they’ll return with a nice tan and a touch of diarrhea.

Wedding bells are ringing Posted by Hello

The Top 100

AFI released their Top 100 Movie Quotes this week. Alright who has 3 hours to waste until you get to the obvious top 3? "Coulda been a contender", "I’ll make him an offer he can’t refuse," and "Frankly my dear , I don’t give a damn." Worst yet, AFI are now starting a series of Top 100 Quotes from selected movies.

The first? Quest for Fire. Let me save you the time by announcing the top 3 right now. "Muh!", "Owwooeet! glum gooka fu.....*twitch*", and #1, my personal favorite, "Ugh".

Movie maliase.

Movie revenues are down. Worst since they started keeping track of such things 20 years ago. Well no shit Watson! Wouldn’t you rather stay at home and watch a pirated copy of Batman Begins, instead of having some juvenile 30 year old kick the back of chair constantly? Maybe you prefer to feel your feat stick to a floor tarred with a syrupy beverage, or hear the punch lines wrecked before they’re delivered, or fight the fuck in the SUV who not only stole the parking space you had your eye on, but the one next to it as well. (Park inside the lines you neanderthal gas guzzler!)

Let's see, screaming babies who shouldn’t be in the theater in the first place. They’re just there because their parents are too cheap to spring for a baby sitter. Oh yeah but they can afford the frickin’ SUV. By the way, it was I, who keyed you vehicular beast .

Then there’s the watered down movie ideas. Rehashed, unoriginal, bullshit where you’ve already seen the best parts in the trailer. Here’s an idea, instead of giving me something that’s like a surfing E.T. meets an eco conscious shark with a heart of gold, how about something original. Something that I’ve never seen before that will challenge my intellect. Something where the Earth is not in danger of some catastrophe and our only hope is a bunch of B-list actors and TV cast-offs.

The movie industry have only themselves to blame, (WARNING: I'll be saying that alot today), and until they have separate viewing booths with my popcorn delivered to my seat by some semi-clad, moisten bint, (who can't get a job at Tim Hortons), an industrial sized drink, and a seat that I can flush without having to get up, my couch looks pretty good to me.

It was a big week....for Barrie

So Barrie gets Live 8, good for them. They beat out Toronto for the gig and a late push to have the concert at the Normodome in Mitchieville. can still hear the weeping and the wailing and the bitching and the moaning from the citizens of our fair city. It makes me laugh. Ha!

So what if Barrie isn’t considered a world class city, they were better prepared to host a concert of this magnitude. All we did was sit around with our collective fingers up our arseholes trying to find a suitable venue. Park Place, formerly Molson’s Park, is as good as any. We have only ourselves to blame.

Summer’s here. Tuesday in fact was the arrival and the longest day of the year soon followed. Yes the wonderful Summer Solstice. Ahh God bless those Pagans.

Boo! Man Group. Monday at the premier performance of the blue hued musicians, Blue Man Group, protesters created havoc across the street from the....Barrie? You're kidding right? Oh yeah well why don't you just move there!

Good Lord, J. Lo is now developing jewelry for animals. Why doesn’t this woman just go away?

Tom Cruise had a trying week A War of the Words, if you will. First he was accosted by a comedy troupe at the London premier. They were posing as reporters and squirted water in the face of the male half of TomKat. Later in the week Tom’s beliefs were called into question when comparison were made between the movie and......Barrie? You mean that roadside stop on the way to cottage country. That Barrie?

Hey my friends, we must get off this Barrie issue. Listen, I've been to that venue many times. I’ve seen stellar performances from Nine Inch Nails, Rage Against the Machine, A Perfect Circle, The Foo Fighters, Alice in Chains, Tool on a small side stage, and yes even Spinal Tap.
I’ve witnessed lack luster sets from Sound Garden, Our Lady Peace, and others too many to mention.
Sat in the beer tent during Sarah McLachlan, and Tragically Hip. (They were new. I didn’t know who they were yet)
I’ve even walked out on Smashing Pumpkins, Hole, Primus, and the aforementioned Sound Garden ( I couldn’t for OLP because they went on before Billy Corgan and the boys and one girl.) It will be ok, really.

Besides we have Gay Pride week. I love the concept. I’ve never been down to the parade, but one of these years I swear I’ll make it, and I don’t even chug cock. Why am I so enamored with Gay Pride if I’m not gay, you ask? Because it’s an easy reminder for my annual prostate check-up.

Do you hear that sound? That’s the sound of Karla Homolka being released.

Turning to the sports page, the basket ball finals between the Spurs and the Pistons, went to seven games for the first time in years . In fact, the last time it happened, Forrest Gump was still in theaters, O.J. was starting his search for the real killers and Bill hadn’t even met Monica yet.

And how about that race last week? I'm talkin' F1 with only 6 cars. That’s right and the crowd were pissed. There was something wrong with the Good Year tires. GY couldn't vouch for their safty so 23 drivers were disqualified, leaving a field of six. Now there's some good racin'. What would you look at if everyone went into the pits at the same time?

Have you heard T.O.’s new slogan. The new effort to bring in tourists in hordes. If You haven’t here it is. Are you Ready? Are you sure?

Toronto Unlimited. Now give me 4 million dollars. O.K. make it 3 . I’ll save you a million from what city council paid for this brand. Should have been Toronto Unlimited unless you want to go to Live 8.

Our beloved mayor. No not the one from Mitchieville, the other one, David Miller the mayor of Toronto. Apparently He’s a hero. Yup talked a guy down who was hanging precariously over a balcony with a knife to his throat at Metro Hall. What they failed to mention, the man was distraught and up there in the first place because of that horrible Toronto Unlimited motto
Jesus! No wonder Barrie won.

Death of the week

Toronto's pride.

Tim Hortons conspiracy?

Last week I posted an observation, that the female staff at all Tim Hortons seem to be lacking in the racking. In other words, there seems to be a hiring blitz that discriminates against woman’s large breasted cousins.

Is it because they only have small sized uniform shirts? That’s a reasonable explanation. Perhaps the gifted girls are too busy to work there? They already have to contend with being chased by our testosterone-driven, phallic nation. Again, a rationale account.

But Timmy’s denied any wrongful employment, with a terse "no comment," when I contacted them over this matter. Of course they’re going to say that. Who wants to get sued? Left to come to my own conclusion, I believe it is all about moving product. They want you to look at the delicious baked goods and you can’t very well do that with your eyes elsewhere, now can you?

Father's Day revisited

I got some flack over my lack of posting last Sunday, on Father’s Day. First, let’s look at the percentages shall we.

Only 23% take the beloved old man out for dinner.
Only 5% think he’s good enough to see an event of some kind.
Only 3% bother to go out and get a card, (Those mindless, insensitive fucks!)
And an unbelievable, 19% didn’t even know it was Father’s Day in the first place.

So, I ask you, why? Why should I give back to the undeserving masses, when I was denied what was rightfully mine when I slipped my penis into some chick's vagina and slipped one past the goalie? Why?...... Well? I’m waiting.

Sunday, June 19, 2005

...and on Father's Day, he rested

What? I'm a dad, or did I dream it?

Saturday, June 18, 2005

Jobs for our youth #4

This is the final in the series for helping our youth excel in the working least for the summer. Face it, if those little buggers don’t have something lined up, it’s too late. The only thing they'll have on their minds is, laying around all summer on your couch.

So I present to you the old standby, Mickey D’s, always looking for that energetic someone who will work for minimum wage and wants to work their way up to head deep-fryer, ( or is that deep-head fryer?) A word of advice, just don’t leave the bathroom taps open when they start you off in the privy.

...and after I told you not to. Posted by Hello

Week local


London, Paris, Philadelphia, Berlin, Tokyo, Rome, Barrie?

So there you have it, Sir Bob’s little music fest will be happening here as well on July 2nd, we just don’t know where. While T.O. hums-and-haws, Barrie (the city above, the city above Toronto), has told their police to get ready for a big concert on the second of next month.

Death of the week. Scott Young, father of Neil. (That’s right. That Neil Young)

Thank friggin’ Christ. One more day with 30+ temperatures and I was going to scream. Hey what’s with all the cloud and rain? Shit when is summer coming?

Did I miss something? Is it open season on pedestrians? I mean five have been hit by vehicles in the past week alone and another three have been shot. Do I have to line up with the fishermen and the hunters to get a licence, or do I just pick some smarmy hip-hopster, swaggering with his pants down around his ankles, on his way to get a job application from McDonalds, and run him down?

This isn’t news of the "week," it’s more of an observation really. I’ve noticed that Tim Horton’s, (and I’m in them a lot of late), seem to be hiring only small breasted women. Correct me if I’m wrong, but every time I stroll into any location to pick up an extra-large-black and a bagel (toasted with butter), I see these chicks with sparrow sized mammalian protuberances. We are talking bee stings here people. Geesh! No wonder more guys are just using the drive-thru. Who needs to go in?

Week international

Jackson, Jackson, Jack, son

Hey you there. Yes you! On the computer. They say if you spend more than 3 hours a day at your infernal machine, blogging, emailing, surfing porn, whatever it is you do, you can develop symptoms like irritability, hostility, paranoia, self-centeredness, phobias and physical ailments....yeah right! Like those FUCKS know anything about me. Why should I give a shit about them? I’m all that matters. It’s my life. If I want to sit in my little office typing away because I’m too scared to venture into the real world, that’s my decision....Is someone watching me?...ow! My fingers hurt.

A year after they fired his ass, he’s back. Like one of those creatures who just won’t die, no matter how many machetes you stick in their skull, Phil Jackson is back to coach the L.A. Lakers and their star rapist, I mean player, Kobe B. Any guesses on how long before Jackson's fired?

Wacko Jacko is innocent. Great! Who didn’t see that coming? M.J. said, through his lawyer, that the accusations have made him rethink his kind-hearted nature. From now on, no one roams free at Neverland, especially when the liquor cabinets are unlocked. Also, Michael will no longer share his bed with anymore children. In fact, he also won’t fondle them, or kiss them or butt fuck them with his nose.....

you know what? I just want to say something if I may.....thank you.....ut..hem!

Sometimes I feel like killing the guy who just cut me off, or maybe just run down that idiot walking in front of my with his underwear at his armpits. Hey I think about what it would be like to just grab some chick off the street and have my way with her. I'd like to put a gun up some rich asshole’s asshole, steal from the elderly and give to the homeless, put my boss through a shredder, beat small squirrels to death with a baseball bat, steal from the homeless and give to the elderly, electrocute hookers and peelers, join in on home invasions, homicidal rampages, car-jackings, rape-pillage-rape....but I don’t. You know why? BECAUSE I’M NOT A FUCKIN’ CELEBRITY!

When it comes to justice giving you a slap on the wrist, the average person doesn’t get JACK! son.

Sunday, June 12, 2005

The verdict is in!

Deliberation is complete. The foreman is ready to read the verdict and you my friends will be the fist to see what outcome was rendered on all ten counts. Look elsewhere on the net if you wish. You will not find a peep of this information anywhere.

You are the very first to witness the conclusion of this long drawn out process, a trial of conscience that has given birth to turmoil and debate from water-coolers to bedrooms. It’s here on my Blog, not on CNN, not on NBC or any other major news source. It's only here on frickin’ Strangedaze mother-scratchers.

You’re welcome.

Verdict reached on count #1 Molestation and abuse.
Guilty! Although my penis continues to work fine, I have been masturbating beyond that of the normal male.

Count #2 Conspiracy issue
Conspiracy to take out garbage. Verdict reached: No conspiracy.

Count #3 Guilty. Hairball found by the computer was indeed that of the cat’s.

Count #4 We have decided to B.B.Q. chicken instead of pork for dinner.

Count #5 We will bypass water for beer as a beverage.

Count #6 Utensils will be used instead of fingers.

Count #7 We will dine outside tonight on the back deck because it’s nice out.

Count #8 Accusations that we still owe money to the cable company. Not guilty.

Count #9 Spits or swallows? Swallows of course! As she says "Why waste it."

Count #10 I will let the grass grow for another day. It’s too hot to mow it anyway.

Thank you people of the jury.

It all ads up

I heard, advertisers are fighting back. In order to combat the new technologies that allow you to tape your favorite programs while editing out commercials, those corporate fuckers have reacted by placing their commercials at obscure junctures of the program. Some are putting out 5 and 10 second spots. One air-freshener company even has a 1 second commercial, dubbed the ultimate in subliminal advertising. What’s next? I guess the guy from Coke just shows up at your front door and starts hurling full cans of the beverage at your noggin, while yelling at you to drink it.

Here’s an interesting idea, why don’t you just make more entertaining FUCKIN’ commercials!

Waiting for hump day

In response to yesterdays favorable interest in stuffed animal testing I thought I’d post this link which I found amusing. It’s a commercial, ( so sue me), that was banned here.

Saturday, June 11, 2005

This weeks hidden word is "Species"

Ashlee Simpson has decided to fire her father as manager saying she likes him as a father just not as someone in control of her destiny. Poor Homer can he do nothing right? Doh!

Death of the week. Anne Bancroft. So long Mrs. Robinson.

There is a baby boom transpiring as we speak in FLA. What do you expect after all those hurricanes last year? "Baby this could be our last moments on earth. Fuck the condom!" Yup! This year they’re talking about a different breakwater as they try to deal with the coming storm of hailing fetus’s

However, our lack of hockey has not yielded the same results here in flavor country. We seem to have satisfied our thirsts with other activities beyond carnal acquiescence, like drinking and curling. We're Canadians! Isn't that what we do?

This week marked the one year anniversary of the last game of hockey played before the lock-out. Does anyone really care? The report I heard said the last game was played between the Calgary Flames and the Tampa Bay Devil Rays. Devil Rays? See even the sportscasters can’t be bothered to get the information right. It’s the Tampa Bay Lightning you witless knob!

Watch for it this summer. Rock Star: The search for the next singer of INXS those crazy Aussie bastards. What an ingenious, refreshingly original idea. It’s a reality show, by Mark Burnett that rich Aussie bastard, where singers compete with each other. Each week one crooner is voted off while the others continue on to the ultimate prize of being lead singer. This could be big I tells ya. BIG! A show like this only comes along once in a week. I wonder if they will have a yank your crank asphyxiation contest?

I’m sure there were things that happened this week that rate mention but this next statistic was the one I found most fascinating. ACDC those lovable Aussie bastards are now tied for fifth in all-time units sold. Back in Black reached 25,000,000 in sales tying them with Billy Joel (Not bad for a drunken, DWI, fat-ass).
The rest of the top five are as follows: #4 Led Zeppelin IV (Not bad for blues band with a drummer who choked on his own vomit).
#3 Pink Floyd The Wall ( Not bad for a bunch of guys who can’t stand one another).
#2 Michael Jackson Thriller (Not bad for everyone’s favorite pedophile).
*drum roll* #1 The Eagles Greatest Hits (Not bad for an endangered species). *ding,ding,ding,ding,ding*

Jobs for our youths #3

Only a few weeks of school left kiddies, but I think I have a job you'd all enjoy. Stuffed animal tester. Someone has to do it, make sure that the teddy bears are soft enough, the floppy puppies are hug-a-licious, the kitties....who cares about the kitties?

Don't laugh, this is an important job, otherwise we could have stuffed animals made of concrete, or pudding, or raisins and pickled shrimp. You could get one made with jaggedy-ass wool from the arsehole of a sheep, and who wants that? I certainly don't.

The next time someone says they test stuffed animals for a living, you give them the respect they deserve.

Care bare Posted by Hello

Verdict when it happens....LIVE

That’s right. Live on my Blog, when the deliberation is complete and a decision is reached, the verdict will be posted on my Blog before any other news agency, or micro media, get their grubby little hands on the outcome.

Yes people, ol’ Uncle Strange has the inside track to the workings of the human condition, and will have the result of all 10 counts. (count em....all 10!) So don’t let me be the first to say I told you so, tune in here daily....nay, minute by minute, to see the most important determination of this young century, on this very page.

Tag I'm it.

Fine! I’ll fill out this ridiculous questionnaire sent to me by a high ranking official who shall remain nameless. Let’s just say, he is currently running for re-election and leave it at that.

How many books do I own: Hundreds and hundreds. Too many to count. In fact, they all belong to my girl D. who is the reader in the family.

Latest Book Purchased: You mean people actually buy books? I thought Chapters was just a really big coffee house, like a super-sized Tim Hortons.

Last Book Read: Da Vinci Code- Dan Brown. Couldn't put it down, read it in five minutes. The guy writes almost as good as I do. *wink*

Five Most Important Books:

The Book of Mormon, transcribed by Joseph Smith. Certainly a must read for any serious pilgrim, this under-recognized North American classic is the bedrock for my serious exploration of mature spirituality and a relationship with the Supreme Being. Just follow the instructions in the front. Wow and interestingly enough, the same one is on the Mayor's list. Ooops....I mean that nameless guy.

The Bible. It kept me warm when I was freezing to death in the early years when I couldn't pay the heat and hydro. Come to think of it, I was on the street. But I digress. The Bible, now there's some good burnin'.

The Greek Myths, D’Aulaire. Holy Fuck! I was going to say anything by Dr. Suess, but Greek Myths won out. That's 3 for 3 with the Mayor. Maybe we were seperated at birth?

Astrology for Believers, by Isobel MacLeod. I knew there would be a discrepancy sooner or later.

Young Person's Guide to the Corral, by The Mayor of Mitchieville. Everything you need to know is in here. No stone left unturned. It teaches you home remedies for STDs, how to chew your arm off in the morning, how to make sure she's legal, and most importantly, training yourself not to think of them as ugly women, but average looking dudes.

Now I have to tag 5 more victims?......naw.

Wednesday, June 08, 2005

Just like K.H.

I hereby tender 72 hours notice that I will be blogging on Saturday. Furthermore I will provide a DNA sample, stay away from drugs and alcohol and anyone under the age of 16. Right! Well.....I guess I’ll see you Saturday.

Sunday, June 05, 2005

All things Trent

Over the past month my girl has developed a insatiable desire for Trent Reznor. What started as a curious foray into the world of NIN as become an unquenchable need for all things Trent. Christ, she sings "I want to fuck you like an animal," from the song "Closer," when she does laundry. She’s taken to running over small insignificant animals that scurry in front of her car. She’s even indulged in self torture in a Bob Flannigan sort of way while she wears her Trent Reznor pillowcase nighty. I’m helpless. This is now our official home page.

This past week she was devastated when NIN pulled out of performing at the MTV awards, apparently over the forbidden usage of a back drop of George Bush behind them as they perform "The Hand That Feeds". She even offered up hers as a replacement, providing Trent and the boys were still adamant about playing in front of bush, but no dice.

Now, there is an up side to all of this. Things are not as dire as they seem. My girl is also convinced that Trent and I share a remarkable resemblance, ( although I’m taller). You can decide for yourself. Personally, except for our similar taste in fashion and desire to pose in front of tree like objects, I don’t see it. However she is convinced we are long lost twins and has been humping my leg like an excited puppy for days. I have half a mind to hit her with a rolled up newspaper and entice her into the boudoir with a pair of NIN tickets.

Trent Posted by Hello

Me Posted by Hello

Saturday, June 04, 2005

Miss Universe Posted by Hello

This week: mock stars, rock stars, schlock stars & cock stars

With the crimson fingers of dawn stretching across the morning sky, a black sedan with tinted windows raced to its destination. The enveloping arms of media, await like a lover anticipating coitus. The throng of onlookers jostle for position, race car drivers in the pace lap, hoping to catch a glimpse of the vehicles inhabitant.

Is it a rock star? The Queen? Fenris Badwulf? Who, Who, Who? Oh It’s only Karla Holmolka on her way to court.

People! Get a life, or at least 20 to life.

Two guys were apprehended in Scarborough, (where else), for dragging a life size cardboard replica of DarthVader tied to the bumper of their ride. The placard, stolen from a local Burger King, was returned without further incident. I guess they didn't like the movie much. Christ Almighty, what’s next, Dancing with Dogs?....

I’m glad you mentioned that. Did you know, you can now sign up for classes to waltz with your canine? That's right. Rhumba with Rex, Tango with Meatball. What’s next, watching your cat have sex? Dancing with dogs is one thing but I draw the line at kitty porn....come on work with me here.

Kylie Minogue. You know that chick who had that one hit remake of, "I think we’re alone now." She checked into a hospital this week to be treated for breast cancer. She also had several patients moved so she could have 8 adjoining rooms for herself, friends and family members. Her treatment shouldn’t be that complicated, since she apparently survived the heart surgery.

Hey! That guy, who played that guy on Hogan’s Heros. Yeah that one. He died this week. I don’t know who he was but let me tell you I’m terribly upset.

From the weekly study of weekly studies, comes a new drug that will develop a quicker bond of trust between mothers and their newborns. Certainly the infant must be pissed-off after being evicted from a nine month rent-free tenement. I feel, however, the real payday lies with the testosterone driven players in the thriving metropolis club district. I'm sure they could find more appropriate uses for those pills. "Of course I promise not to cum in your mouth. Trust me."

Let me ask you. "Sisterhood of the traveling pants," Is that not the worst title for a movie since "The Ya Ya Sisterhood"? I’d rather be dragged kicking and screaming through four miles of rodent excrement then see this film. Worse yet, it’s an adaptation from a novel of the same name. Yup, while I struggle to get interest in my manuscripts, out there somewhere, is a book with this title, on a shelf, and it has been successful enough to warrant being made into a movie.

So I guess I have to change the title of my next book to something brutal to attract attention. How about "Cricket piss through a sock ful of sand"? (Excerpts from "Cricket piss" coming in the near future).

But it could be worse.....ok it’s worse.
Clint Eastwood who turned 75 this week, has decided to make another Dirty Harry film. I’ll wait for the shock to pass.................................................I can’t wait that long. Given the potential of incontinent situations, it’ll probably be the dirtiest Harry yet.

Not to be outdone, Sly-and the family-Stalone, has decided to star in Rambo IV. Did I miss something . There was actually a Rambo III?

After 30 years the silence has been broken. We now know who Deep Throat was. If you missed it, let me tell ya. It was Linda Lovelace.

Jobs for our youth #2

Looking for a summer job? Can you drive? Because the bloated loins of the business world want to feel important by letting someone park their car. It could be you. That’s right! I’m talking to you, the one with the acne minefield on his face. You’d make a wonderful valet pee-on. Forget the science major, cool red jackets and name tags are where it’s at....You’re welcome.

Shit! I put them in a handicap space Posted by Hello

Wednesday, June 01, 2005

Shameless self-promotion for a new month Posted by Hello

Excerpts from Limits

An hour passed until Casey appeared and sat on one of the stools at the far end of the bar without her husband. She was still dressed in her bus clothes, black and somber. Space was applying the finishing touches to his drum kit, placing his various trophies of women’s lacy underwear at various junctions on the cymbal stands, (some things never change).

Under Wires direction, he started smacking the snare drum repeatedly while our sound-man fiddled with the equalizers on the main sound console.
Doc approached Casey, "Where’s Spike? We’re almost ready to try a few."
"He’s in the room. He said he could be a while."
"Je-sus girl, we don’t have a lot of time to get it together. It’s important that he’s punctual."
"Doc, let’s just go get him," I motioned. She told us their room number and off Doc and I stomped.

Once up a flight of stairs, we arrived at their door, midway down a long bleak corridor with that wet moldy smell. From inside we could hear someone stirring around followed by a click, click, bang! Doc was about to knock but halted, "Sparky what the hell was that?"
"I don’t know?"
Click, click, bang!
"There it is again! What the fuck’s he doing? Eccentric little bugger isn’t he?"
I just nodded affirmatively.
Click, click, bang!
Doc finally knocked after the next sequence of sounds. We heard Spike bellow from within, "Enter!"
Doc opened the door. Click– darkness. Barlow tumbled forward and I fell on top of him and what I perceived to be Spike’s big brown suitcase. I grunted and Doc yelped, "Je-sus! Sparky!"
Click– light, followed by a loud BANG!
Click- darkness again.
"Sparky! Get off me . . ."
Click- light. BANG! We looked up from our entanglement to see Spike directly in front of us, peering frantically from side to side, on all fours, in a British flag T-shirt, sunglasses, white underwear and black socks, holding a hammer in his hand. The blanket had been ripped from the bed and hung over the window blocking out all daylight. The lone lamp had been pulled down from the night stand, Spike clutched it with his free hand. Click– darkness. Click–light. BANG! As the hammer fell to the floor in a vicious stroke.
"Spike, for God’s sake. What the fuck?"
"What’s he doing Sparky?"
"Forget that. Where’s his pants Doc?"
We were on our feet again looking down at this creature that Space had hired to help us get to the promised land. Spike looked back up at us, his eyebrows visible above his dark shades. "Cockroaches," he said, in a hushed tone as if they might hear him and scatter. "This room is infested with them. I’m killin’ every last one of those fuckers before I do anything else."
Click, click, BANG!
"Oh my heart! Oh my heart!" Doc clutched his chest in feigned fright to cover up the fact that Spike was beginning to creep him out.
"Spike stop it! Don’t tell me you have a phobia over cockroaches too?"
"That would be insectophobia," Doc put in. He paused, "Why? What other phobias does he . . . ?"
"...Casey, she can’t stand bugs and I can’t stand to see her upset. I’ll eliminate anything that makes her that way including these nasty little.." Click, click, BANG!
"Je-sus! Sparky make him stop."
"Would ya shut up for a minute Doc! Shit Spike, did you ever think the easiest thing might be to change rooms. We don’t have infestations in ours. I’m sure you’re telling us the truth about the roaches even though I don’t see any squished corpses, just a bunch of hammer holes in the floor boards."
"They’re elusive as hell."
"I’m sure they are but we have to start rehearsing and it’s a rather pressing need at the moment. So perhaps you could just put the hammer down for now and we’ll deal with this problem later. We’ll get some bug spray or something ok?"
"No this is the only way to be sure," He shook the hammer at us.
Doc and I exchanged looks that said, Holy fuck! This guy is psycho, of course, I’d been on that bandwagon since the bus depot.
Spike finally relented after our continuous pleas of, "Just put the hammer down and back away from the bugs!" He finally agreed to follow us downstairs and put some pants on, thankfully not in that order.

As he plugged in, Space approached Doc and I who were with Wires at the sound console. Wally sat close by with his feet up on a table as he wiped his guitar neck with a soft cloth.
"What’s the hold up? You know how important this week is going to be to us."
"We had to hammer out a few issues with Spike," I then proceeded to inform them of
recent events in the room as well as Wires and my knowledge of Spike’s Curse of the J’s phobia.
Doc was stunned, "You mean he also has coulrophobia?"
"What? He has a fear of clowns?" Wires inquired, "That’s what coulrophobia is Doc."
"It can be two things! Or did I dream it? Really Wires I knew that. I was just testing you. Anyway it could be worse, he could have ergophobia like Wally . . . That’s fear of work Wally."
Wally turned to Doc, stuck his tongue out and returned to wiping his guitar.
"Look I don’t care what the problem is. Spike is our man now and things have to work
out. So work them out. Christ! It’s like baby sitting when it comes to you guys. Focus! There can’t be any more fuck-ups. We’ll get him a new room and no one calls him anything but Spike. Got it? ...Good!...Wires fire up the sound."

Eccentricities aside, Spike was prepared and knew a bulk of what we asked him to learn before he got here. We felt confident that we could make it through the first night with minimal mistakes and scheduled further rehearsals for later that day and the following afternoon.

Spike was now at the bar, with Casey’s arms around him, waiting for a new room key from Space.
"That went better than I expected."
"Me too, Doc."
"At least Wally and I don’t have to spend too much time working with him on the songs. I’d like to minimize my time with him anyway. That boy gives me the heebeejeebees."
"It’s probably best if we all do that...limit our contact with him."
"Do you ever wonder, Sparky?"
"About what? Why we do what we do? Why we put up with this crap for shit money? The long hours for minimal reward? Fraternize with crazy assholes like Spike?"
"No, Why the fear of long words is such a long word in itself? Hippopotomonstrosesquippedaliophobia."
"Sometimes I don’t know about you Doc. Maybe you’re the one we should be limiting contact with?"