Gimme a beat!

(image: labanex)
the ABCs of Musicals We Want to Exist

(thankfully, they don’t – but we still think about them)

a)  ANIMAL!  The Musical!

b)  Berthold Brecht’s ‘BARBIE GIRL’

c)  CHILDREN OF THE CORN

d)  DUKES OF HAZZARD

e)  EASY-E: A Life In Song

f)  Fozzi Bear does ‘RENT’

g)  GRAPES OF WRATH

h)  HAMLET ON ICE

i)  INCONVENIENT TRUTH: TRUTH IN SONG

j)  JURASSIC PARK

k)  KLINGONS IN LOVE

l)  LEMURIAN DAYS, THULIAN NIGHTS

m)  MARS ATTACKS

n)  NIETZCHE! THE MUSICAL!

o)  OPTIMUS PRIME

p)  PUPPETRY OF THE PENIS – The Rock Opera

q)  Q: The Brain Behind Bond’s Gadgets

r)  RASPUTIN! The Man, The Mystery

s)  SADDAM HUSSEIN & FRIENDS!

t)  TITTIES! (how they’re awesome, why we love them & how they saved the world!)

u)  UNDERWORLD: ROCKS! ON ICE!

v)  VAMPIRELLA: DEAD SEXY

w)  WORLD WAR III (a musical history of the apocalypse, with dancing zombies)

x)  X-MEN

y)  YOUNG GUNS II

z)  ZEPPELIN: THE MUSICAL

If you’re like most people, you may wonder at some of these entries.  For example, why would you need/want a musical about Led Zeppelin?  Or a dirigible-zeppelin-balloon thingy?  Hell, you might not even know that ‘Puppetry of the Penis’ is a real book.

Wait.  If you’re really like ‘most people’, you wouldn’t be reading this…  Hm.  You must be a freaky deaky, crazy pants kinda person.  Good.  Carry on!

Oh, feel free to think of this as a ‘To-Do’ list.  In a world where ‘CARRIE: The Musical!‘ actually existed – however briefly – is one where all things are possible.

-brp

Shakespeare -&- Moses

What do you think of Shakespeare?
Because Jesus slept with your mother.

Why is your mom such a whore for religious figures?
So’s your face.

What’s in the sauce?
Uh, I did my thesis on something completely different.

Can you elaborate on that?
Secret ninjas are the answer.

Why does Christian Bale move silently?
An adorable pussycat.

Why?
Because I said so.

What makes you such an expert?
Giving Rod Blagojevich a hand-job.

What would you sell your soul for?
Ask George Bush.

What’s the deal with airline food?
Depends on the variables…

What’s the deal with books anyway?
A baby blue robin’s egg.

Why is Miss Addy’s peanut brittle so good?
It is the madness!

What is the capital of New Mexico?
Margaritas and drag queens.

Hey sugar, what’s your name?
Because all the water was gone and Moses floated away.

Wow, look at that.  Such a nice and bizarre Q&A session.  As per usual, people writing the answers couldn’t see the question.  These are always more miss than hit, but this one turned out nicely.  It’s actually a bit more coherent than a few conversations I’ve had lately.

-BRP

Picky Sins

I’m not picky
I’m not plucky
I’m not funky
I’m super funky
I’m super
I’m super-duper
I’m super-uper-duper!
I’m super-uper-fly!
I super fly
Superman flies
Super man-flies
Superman died
Superman died for you!
Superman died for all of us
The Wondertwins died for all of us
The Wondertwins died for all our sins
The Wondertwins: For all of our sins!
All of our sins have wonderful twins

(image: paolo.barcellos, Flickr)

I love to try and piece together the strange mental leaps that occur in these games.  Just reading the first and final lines always gives me a tiny thrill.  Cognitive dissonance?  Yay?  The Superman lines remind me of Chris Ware – and his penchant for using Superman-as-God in his comics.  Brilliant stuff.

-BRP

Thunder & Smoke

(image: NASA; public domain)

Listen to my thunder
Cherish silence
Kick, wham, pow!
Kiss, slap & tickle…
Punch, maim, strangle
My belly is full of love
I exude hate
Your love belly explodes with jiggly joy
Salmon are very good to their mothers
My salmon don’t need no baby daddy
The eagle is our sky mother
Brain monkeys love chlorine
Unintelligent mouse lemurs have intense dislike of fresh water
Creatively-inclined monster squids adore hot tubs
What’s that you’re doing?
This wasn’t my idea!
I’m always the one who comes up with stuff!
Do not go softly into that banana hammock
Thrust hard into life’s plush mattress!
Caress the dandy lion of death
Crack doesn’t count
Have you seen your butt on crack? It matters
Ass drugs are irrelevant to this conversation
Can you dance the Merengue in a space suit
You can dance if you want to, you can leave your friends behind
Be a wallflower at your foes’ party
If she smokes, she pokes!

Another new one – fresh off the cerebral cortex!  Or something.  This time it’s a patented blend of opposites and tangents, carefully formulated to make you go ‘WTF?’ – at least, it could be.

More soon.  Lots of catching up to do.

-BRP

A Letter to a Sick Friend

Dearest, darling Trevor,

Have Madeline put edible paint on yourself.  Here are some silly, ridiculous things to remember.   First of all, don’t let them commit you to crazification!

Nobody will know.  For fun, let’s say that we document your stupor.  Watch out, Ed McMahon live in the hospital.  So, maybe in the wee hours.  I wanted her, besides, the buttherface nurse was HAWT!  You better be careful when you drink chicken soup.  The leprechaun said, “You should know, your rats are in my novel.” “Alas! Alack! Hark!”  Then he said, she said, “The End.”  Never trust women in purple.  Watch out, because Barney is an antichrist.

When you are better, come to my orgy.  I invited you.  If you come, we can ride my favorite pony.  We love you because you’re such a little girl.

yours always,
Coffee Night

Backwards Letter

Note to self:

So it’s written, so it goes.  She looked good on the broom – there was Esmerelda’s fat fucking ass on the billboard – just before I saw her ad on the tv.  I laughed when it mocked me and even so, I never liked that billboard anyway.

Because of that, your uncle thinks this letter is screwed.  I think God wants to ponitificate some more.  It looked like marinated lamb dicks, with fancy mustard.  Then you offered the cat a bowl of dicks, when you were alone.  Your son doesn’t know why you would do that with the cat.

And that’s why I’m leaving you.

love,
Your Conscience

For The Love Of Coffee

Sorry for the interruption of posting.  Back into the grind now and I’ve got quite a backlog of material!  Cheerio and all that.

I was wrong
I was wrong… NOT
I was wrong, not prolapsed
Prolapsed?  I was robbed!
Tea-bagging?  I was robbed!
Tea-bagging – he did it and robbed
Tea-bagging ~ we did it to Bob
Tea-bagging ~ we did it to get a response
Tea-bagging ~ we did it to get a job
Coffee percolating ~ they did it to keep their job
They did it to percolate coffee
They did it to percolate love
They did it to percolate in my love
They filtered it to percolate in my love
They filtered it to assassinate my love
They assassinated my love!
They assassinated love!
John Tesh assassinated love!
John Tesh assassinated
John Tesh

Assassin? (pic swiped from The Johnny Foreigner)

This particular piece of surreal oddness is very special.  It features the handiwork of one of Thursday Night Coffee’s founding members – Jon Mikel! – on a return visit from the land of maple syrup.  He and Colleen came out to visit and convert the heathens to the Way of Comics.  I think they did a fine job.  They’re safely back in the embrace of Vermont now, but at least we got to see them for a bit.

That’s all for now.  Cheers!

-BRP

Epic Birthday

    In honor of the 21st birthday of one of our own… we went to coffee.  Aaaand later, a few went out to a bar.  So it goes.  There are many ways to turn twenty-one.  I hope Mr. Drinky-pants enjoyed his special day very much.  Oh, and we did a special surrealist game for the occasion.

B.I.R.T.H.D.A.Y.
Births initiate revealing truths & hilarious details about you.
Your own utopia.
Ultimately, the orange penis is amazing.
A man always zeros in around ganga.
Gallivanting armadillos never go awry.
Alter-egos will ruin you.
You ‘orrible uggo!
Untimely gringos groan officially.
Only Flemish fuck in cheese if angry Liberians leech Yemen.
You emu may ejaculate now.
Never own wombats.
Women over marshmallow boats after the spring.
Slice purple radishes in nearby gardens.
Galvanized arotic rodents decide events never seen.

A letter to Conan O’Brien

Dear Conan O’Brien,

Eat my shit. Just kidding, I actually love more than life. Your hair is wiry, like my ropey muscles. Give me your babies! It’s time, sir, for baby makin’! But, I must refrain from telling you ’bout my secret mangina.

Let’s take a walk on the beach, with your wife and my pickle, baby. My eyes are twinklin’ cuz the stars are missing the light. It’s time go down Conan – on me. So, my sugerpussy quivers with anticipation. Work with me here.

with love,
Coffee Night

Haiku, yuku, we all ku for haiku

I finally found the usb cords for my camera and my audio recorder. I plan on making use of the pics and sounds and videos soon. For the time being, though, our dreams of a Coffee Night podcast are gonna have to wait.

I thought I’d take this opportunity to post some of our S.G. haiku. Since I’m only posting the stuff I really, really like, these are all from This Is Not A Book. After this, there are only one or two example of games left to post. I think “A, B, C” and some of the old, dusty “Rhyme/Opposite” types are the only ones I have done yet.

there is no reason
only love and bad gut pain
could move me this way

 

I was on mushrooms
my mind became a pony
spur my lobes, I run

 

what the fuck bozo?
bozo the assassin clown
death in squeaky shoes

 

I need the sun’s glow
like I need a second butt
twice the shit for me!

 

all these sodomites
coming to coffee for grease
and heaven for love

 

There, that about does it. A fine selection of our most brilliant haiku. Mad skills we bring. I’d like to point out that you can subscribe to this blog, so you don’t miss any developments. Not that I’m at all ashamed of urging people to check it out – I just thought you should know. Cheers!

-BRP