Dangerspouse Rides Again

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Notes

Garage - Track




Mar. 16, 2005 - 11:07 a.m.

STOP THE MADNESS!!

.

I know what the price of fame is.

It's $148 dollars.

So far.

wheeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!

Ok, so I may have been a bit naive when I offered to send every sentient carbon-based life form on Earth a free cd.

It's funny, but I distinctly remember thinking as I typed the previous entry, 'Well, this will go nowhere. Who would trust the musical tastes of a grown man who collects Powerpuff Girls dolls?'

Apparently 148 people would.

So far.

I'm afraid to open my Gmail anymore, thinking it's about to explode like Mr. Creosote in "Monty Python's The Meaning of Life" ("But it's waffer thin!") So the count is probably higher by now.

I'm figuring a dollar per package, between blank cd's, envelopes, and postage. NewWifey(tm) is a bit more pessimistic, pointing out that almost a third of the beggers...er, recipients... are inconsiderate enough to live overseas.

"It costs a LOT more to mail things to Third World ghettos, you know. They have to use biplanes and camels and stuff, and that drives the postage through the roof" she said.

I pointed out to her that Australia, Germany, Canada, England, and several other NATO luminaries were hardly "Third World", let alone ghettos. Several of them even have paved roads in their larger cities.

"Yeah, well, all I know is you'd better be prepared to give up beer for a few months if you're seriously gonna go through with this stupid exercise in vanity. You're already in it for over a hundred bucks just to satisfy the losers who live HERE. I bet this thing goes to three bills, easy, before it's over."

GASP and Ye Gads!

No...beer?

Ok folks, show's over. Nothing to see here.

That's right. I'm moving up the Deadline for Entries.

To an hour ago.

I know, I know. I told you that I'd be taking requests up until Saturday. But that was before I realized that Beer would be involved.

Besides, this is the internet. We're SUPPOSED to lie here.

So if you sent your e-mail requesting a Dangermix, it should be on your doorstep within, I dunno - a week? A month? However fast that biplane can get out to you.

All I know is, I've had my cd-burner cranking non-stop for the past 38 hours. It smells like burnt tar in here from the motor overheating.

After that I have to address 148+ brown lunchbags by hand. Then convince the Postmaster to take food stamps.

So don't hold your breath. But it'll get there. Eventually.

Oh yeah...a bunch of you are gonna be VERY disappointed. I can't tell you how many e-mails requesting cd's contained a varient of the words "I can't wait to see what kind of original mix the mighty Dangerspouse listens to! This is gonna be GREAT!!"

Uh, no offense, but you have the brains God gave farming implements. This is NOT a cd I put together to convince people that I'm hipper and more knowledgeable than a music columnist for The Village Voice, or more cutting edge and trend setting than, uh, a cutting edge trend setter. This is just a cd to keep me awake while driving to work at 2am, culled from random discs I just happened to have at arms length at the time.

Which brings me to another minor point:

You are ALL going to lose.

My memory being what it is (poor to cheeselike) I was in err when I gave the impression that a lot of this cd will be easily identifiable.

What I should have said was, "it will be easily identifiable to me."

You, on the other hand, will probably need to Google at least 80% of the tracks (lousy cheater). But you'll STILL only find 40% of THOSE. You're gonna tank on the instrumentals, minimum.

Sucker.

Get ready to box up that pizza crust, trainer bra or Ohio Players 8-track. I'll be waiting.

(Oh, and if for some reason the cd doesn't play when you get it...I was pretty drunk when I did a batch of about 30 last night. E-mail me if you get a dud. I won't be suprised, but I will send out another copy. Likewise if it's damaged in transit. Those camels aren't known for their gentle ride.)

That is all. Thank you for your patience.

.

************************************************************************************************

WAIT! WAIT!

Before you go - my buddy poolagirl is up for some kind of minor award. No, WAIT! It's a MAJOR award!! See that button on the left of my page, up top? That one that says I'm a better writer than you? Yeah, that one from Diarist.net. Poolagirl's been nominated for one too now!

And not for some crappy category like "Best Comedic Entry" that garners no respect from the Academy, but a Real Respectable Award! Something like "Best Fucking Entry All Quarter, Period, Regardless Of Genre".

I have to tell you, Pooly's my pal and all, but if her entry had sucked moose cock and I didn't think it deserved to win, I'd tell you. Probably. If she didn't come across with a bribe.

But...she didn't need to bribe me! (This time). Her story about nuns/mastubating/washcloths (read it to figure out the connection) is a riot! I've already voted for her several times using various aliases. You should too. Go on, click poolagirl and follow the link to her ego-fest. Yay, Poolie!!

(You ARE gonna honor your end and put out now, welt or no welt, right? Good girl....)

Ok, now you can go.

Ciao!

.


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