What a Load of Poop!

WARNING: This post contains mention of certain bodily functions dealing with the removal of waste. It's not too graphic, but I though I should warn you just the same.

Please allow me a brief rant. Have you seen this commecial where a guy is mountain biking in the middle of nowhere when he realizes he is about to be hit with a case of the runs? We are then taken inside his body where we see his internal command crew panicking (think of the inside the man's body during a date segment of Woody Allen's "Everything You Wanted to Know About Sex..."). The crew then sends up the order to take Imodium, which the guy conveniently has stashed in his pack. I assume he takes it, and next he just bikes off all better.

Now, I don't know about you, but when I get the feeling that I have diarrhea, it isn't like "hmmm, I think I may have the runs in an hour so I should take something to stop it." I usually become aware of the situation when it is "on deck" and all ready for blast-off. There is nothing in the world that can make it actually reverse course. I guess that is why, if it were me in the commercial, when I open my pack the camera wouldn't show a centrally placed bottle of Imodium, full and just waiting to come to the rescue. The camera would show a full roll of TP with lotion that I stole from my brother's travel supply.

That's what they need to do! Stop running the commercial right now, sell it to Charmin who will reshoot just enough to make it a much more realistic spot for toilet paper. I am not saying that Imodium doesn't work or is a bad product. In fact, I just went to their site and they earned big "brownie" points (hee hee), for having a Restroom Shuffle game. I just think that the scene they created was too unbelievable for me.

Ok, I am done. I just get mad when advertisers assume we are idiots. I now return you to your regularly scheduled, doodoo-free blogging.

Get Off the Bus Back to Beelzebub

It’s time for a new music recommendation. I just got my hands on the new album from Mike Doughty, the former front man of Soul Coughing. The album is called Haughty Melodic and I have probably listened to it 8 times in the 5 days I have had it. In a word that is followed by another word… love it.

S.C. was one of my favorite groups before breaking up about 4 years ago. I can’t really describe them. They were very unique and I can’t even think of anyone to compare them to. I really didn’t know what to expect with Doughty’s solo work and I felt I was taking a little risk with blindly ordering the CD although I heard a bit of an acoustic performance on NPR a week or so ago. Historically speaking, I just haven’t had a lot of luck with solo efforts from members of favorite bands.

Police = HOT
Early solo Sting = luke-warm
Recent solo Sting = not even worth a comment
KISS, pre-Unmasked = I can Rock-n-Roll All Nite
Solo albums from Gene, Paul, Ace, Peter = flush all four in the Ladies Room

10,000 Maniacs = good
Natalie Merchant solo = not so good

The Smiths = good
Morrisey = ok, at times, but the times are few

Go Gos = they got the beat
Belinda = wished she would go back to the drugs

I am sure that in all of these cases I didn’t like the solo projects because they differed too much from the style I loved in the band. In the case of Mike Daughty: Haughty Melodic, I don’t miss Soul Coughing. Don’t get me wrong, I still love the S.C. albums, and Doughty’s new work is very different. But, in a way, it isn’t. There are no obscure cartoon music samples, no thumping stand-up bass, very little (if any) synth or keyboards. In fact, the musical arrangements can be considered quite “traditional”. You’ll hear a lot of acoustic guitar, some drums, an occasional piano. The similarities all seem to come from what I have learned is the most important instruments, Doughty’s voice, lyrics, and delivery. I know this probably means nothing for people who have never heard Soul Coughing, but, for many of the fans, I think it’s all there. For me, I can now get off the bus. My white Lexus has come.

G

Praise Be to the Glory of Fluff

A recent trip out east to Florida netted me a full tub of Fluff™, that sweet stomach spackle. Sometimes, there is nothing better than a the combination of pure, white, Wonder bread with a healthy smear of Jif, followed by a coat of Fluff marshmallow cream. Don't even try to trick me with that brand-name crap. I am a Fluffernutter™ man to the very end. Oh what I would do for a big glass of milk right now...

In addition to great sammiches, we vegetarians can use the Fluff to make Rice Krispy Treats, since it doesn't contain gelatin like regular marshmallows.

In case you haven't noticed. My stomach has absolutely no intention of ever growing up past 13. Say, that reminds me. To whatever marketing genius convinced the powers-that-be to add more melba toast to the bag of Gardetto's, I salute you. You are a god among men.

G