For T.O.C.K.

Is this what it felt like to carry T.O.C.E.'s hulking frame around all last month, feeding her lines to which she never correctly responded? Don't answer that. I know the answer all too well.

You Simply Cannot Hide From the Ugly Truths.

This weekend saw the reappearance of a strange and wondrous Iowa occurence: T.O.C.E. and six of her weirdest acquaintances gathered in the panopticon that is The One Called Bird's playhouse, and banged on several poor, unsuspecting inanimate objects for an even poorer and more unsuspectinger group of humans. This is what T.O.C.E. et al call a "cover band."

The banging of objects continued late into the evening, until, at about 3AM, most folks had left. T.O.C.E was attempting a 2-note version of "Summertime" with a random undergraduate in a Jesus T-shirt while a triad of unnamed bike messengers looked on, eating expensive potato chips. Just another night in the Hawkeye state. Behold photographic evidence.

Covering "Heartbeats" by the Knife...

Acoustic nosie rock. Note The One Called Joon's use of a plastic corncob as a rhythm instrument.

Chick-rock solemnity while covering Joy Division. Also, the best angle of T.O.C.E.'s face.

The One Called Hanick delivers a face-melting solo during his musical cover of"Of Thumbs."

The One Called Sreeni-realdeal, fiddle-covering Matthew Sweet.

T.O.C.J. sings about Christmas trees, her sister, and how to choose the perfect dog.

Purple Rose of Hemlock shows the true meaning of "Thru da window! To da wall!"

The One Called 'Prill flew her mother in from Cleveland just so she could witness the glory that is the Percussion Basket.

The prettiest banjo-ho there ever was, pickin' the Go-Gos.

Give Me Liberty or Give Me C.apeshit!

On second thought, Liberty is overrated. The last time I got free, I ended up with 1/4 less legs, living in an animal shelter, forced to go home with tweedledave and tweedledipshit.

JUST GIVE ME C.APESHIT! Within the next 24 hours, please...

THE RAGE WILL RISE AGAIN!!!!

Those of you interested in setting time aside for C.apeshit worship might stop by here at 8pm Friday, for some strange human ritual called "thesis readings." This is, apparently, then followed by one of T.O.C.E.'s favorite rituals, "getting loaded and turning carpentry tools into musical instruments. Contact her for the deets.

Sweet Lord.

Maybe Russia isn't the motherland for megalomaniacal three-legged cats. Because this most definitely violates most of my core principles. Slide forward to 1:50 to see the borscht really hit the blender:

(T.O.C.E. loves it, though. Natch).

Paging St. Crispin...

Rat's-eye view of Paul, the wanna-be Yank, marching the streets of London. All Blighty Charlene fans should try to catch these shoes in their native (semi-annual) habitat. Turn up the Trackula, indeed.

Reasons I Haven't Been Posting, Umpteenth Edition

1) Crippling, Gut-wrenching Capeshit Withdrawl. She better get her angry butt back to the corn, and soon.

2) Because T.O.C.E. lost the plug to her digital camera, thus defeating my resolution to make 2008 The Year of the Three-legged Photo Blog.

3) Global Napping.

4) It's been difficult to sneak in computer time, what with the other blog T.O.C.E. has been commissioned to (read: forced someone to let her) write. It's about some human spectacle she's in (again) and, of course, is riddled with exclamation points.

5) Four Words: Cat Witness Protection Program.

6) The considerable drop in quality between Rock of Love with Bret Michaels I and Rock of Love with Bret Michaels II has left me seriously depressed. As The One Called Hanick says, there aren't enough drunk strippers taking their tops off, then falling down the stairs.

7) Because I've spent most of my free time forming an unlikely alliance with H.W.D.N.T.B.N. As a thank-you for the newfound friendship I've granted him, he's given me a slew of unsavory nicknames: The Littlest Bopper, Pocahontas, Beep Beep, Little Dungarees, and other embarassing monikers. But, alas, he is very, very good at ear-scratching.

8) Eight...I forgot what eight was for.

9) It's been difficult to concentrate on typing, what with all the whining that's been going on around here. Apparently, T.O.C.E. has chosen 2008 as the year to fall apart, suffering from back-wrenchings, shouler-kinkings, toe-sprainings, gout, sinus infections, peruvian rat flu, scurvy, swollen glands, and idiot disease. (Author's note: a few of these diseases are embellishments). Irregardlessably, she's been sick as a dog. "Constitution of an ox," my eye!

10) Because you people just won't stop pissing me off.

Be Still Her Heart.

Dorkfish nearly dropped her tea on my tail after seeing this newsy tidbit on the Today Show:
Though she does admit that it just ain't the same without the high, high hair that screams 1989:
Welcome back, boys. Apparently, you are the madeline cookie for T.O.C.E.'s temps hairdo.