TRF Prediction Thread and Roast: Rushgoober's 30,000th post

[Tombstone Mountain]

I hate to break it to Substance, but if things aren't resolved with Goobs soon, I have to depart for another mission of mercy on the other side of the great "united" States. I received a Federal Express letter today requesting my expertise and presence to resolve yet another thorny matter. Even as I type, my friends at the NYPD are busy investigating the matter. The word is that a man from Germany is involved who has an accomplice that lives in Italy. This should be interesting.

 

If greyfriar and H.P.L. are willing to allow poor Goober to languish in a cell, they don't deserve your expertise.

 

There's not much I can do on this side of the Atlantic, except spend sleepless nights waiting for news to come up. I am resorting to listening to King Crimson's "Three of a perfect pair" on loop to stay awake. Still, it has affected my language and behaviour. I am calling radio shows here in Italy to let the people know about Goobs, but somehow I end up sounding like a lunatic, and they hang up on me. ON AIR! I have written letters to newspapers but they don't get printed, instead they print letters about the new Zucchero album. How's that?

No way I can make it to the US unless a truck driver friend of mine gives me a ride. He has to deliver an antique troumeau to the villa of an aristocrat in the city of Magadan, eastern Siberia. He says I could easily get a lift to California from there. Point is, it would take us 4 months to get to Magadan and it's rainy season.

So what should I do? Loyalty is taking a big toll off me. BTW, what has this Goober REALLY done for me lately? Eh? What have you done for me lately, Goober?

This is epic. Yeah Goobs. WTF have you done lately? HPL just went Robert Deniro epic on you...awesome

Actually, I was going Janet Jackson on him. Unless we find Goobs wrote that one too!!

What came to my mind was the scene from "Goodfellas" when Liotta and Deniro went to collect a debt from Maury, the wig maker. When Maury refused to pay, Deniro wrapped the phone cord around his neck and kept yelling "today...tadaay...today". Edited November 20, 2013 by Tombstone Mountain

[Lorraine]

Undoubtedly, one and all (what does the "all" add up to now? three?) are wondering where I've been.

 

All I can say is I was saved by Lakeisha and two of her dancing and ukulele playing Sisters.

 

On my way up to tea with Norman's mother, I became aware of a car horn beeping furiously. Lo and behold, there was Lakeisha and two of her cronies. She asked me where I was going. When I told her, she said that I shouldn't do that unless I wanted to wind up in a taxidermist office. I've learned not to ask any questions (for fear of hearing the answers), so I obediently hopped into the back seat and off we went.

 

Really, I should have at least asked where we were going because the next thing I knew we were driving up the endless driveway to Larry Flynt's estate. The first thing I saw was Tombstone chasing that chimpanzee in a negligee around the grounds. Very troublesome sight. We must have a talk with the man.

 

Larry very graciously greeted me and promised to be on his best behavior. We all have different definitions of "best" apparently, as mine does not line up with Larry's. Be that as it may, we spent an enjoyable evening watching old Pola Negri silent films and snacking on granola and carrot sticks. Wretched combination. Don't try it. Then Larry further entertained us by reading random chapters from his very much read and dog-eared copy of Hollywood Babylon.

 

My experiences in Southern Cal have given a new meaning to the word "bizarre" to me.

[Lorraine]

I hate to break it to Substance, but if things aren't resolved with Goobs soon, I have to depart for another mission of mercy on the other side of the great "united" States. I received a Federal Express letter today requesting my expertise and presence to resolve yet another thorny matter. Even as I type, my friends at the NYPD are busy investigating the matter. The word is that a man from Germany is involved who has an accomplice that lives in Italy. This should be interesting.

 

If greyfriar and H.P.L. are willing to allow poor Goober to languish in a cell, they don't deserve your expertise.

 

There's not much I can do on this side of the Atlantic, except spend sleepless nights waiting for news to come up. I am resorting to listening to King Crimson's "Three of a perfect pair" on loop to stay awake. Still, it has affected my language and behaviour. I am calling radio shows here in Italy to let the people know about Goobs, but somehow I end up sounding like a lunatic, and they hang up on me. ON AIR! I have written letters to newspapers but they don't get printed, instead they print letters about the new Zucchero album. How's that?

No way I can make it to the US unless a truck driver friend of mine gives me a ride. He has to deliver an antique troumeau to the villa of an aristocrat in the city of Magadan, eastern Siberia. He says I could easily get a lift to California from there. Point is, it would take us 4 months to get to Magadan and it's rainy season.

So what should I do? Loyalty is taking a big toll off me. BTW, what has this Goober REALLY done for me lately? Eh? What have you done for me lately, Goober?

 

That's a good question. It never occurred to me to even ask it. But you are right.

 

What has Goober REALLY done for me lately??? Or ever????

 

Loyalty has taken its toll on you and warmheartedness has taken its toll on me.

 

But Substance, greyfriar and me must see this through to the end!

 

Forward and onward!!

[Lorraine]

The Yukon Blade Grinder

Felonius Munk Edition

 

 

11.18.2013

Santa Barbara, Ca

 

Santa Barbara Courthouse

 

 

 

Rushgoober: The Cult Leader Speaks

 

The Yukon Blade Grinder is proving omniscient as ever when news unfolds in the “Spirits of Neverland Ranch” case. Marlon Brando’s famous line from the classic film “Apocalypse Now” seems an appropriate description of the situation—horror. Yep that’s it. Cannibalistic rituals, rock band mythology, and frightened animals running amok have been the calling card for this inner space oddity. The Blade Grinder has learned the disturbed leader of the cult has hired legal counsel and been granted a press conference of his own in an effort to clear his name. According to law enforcement, even the grungiest of ambulance chasers have steered clear of this case.

 

Except for one heavyweight. Who wants to defend the indefensible? John Grisham—Author. Lawyer. Master of Legalese. Willing to leave his Louisiana home for months on end to defend the ringleader of the “Spirits of Neverland Ranch”, Mr. Grisham informs the Yukon Blade Grinder that he’s certainly up to his eyeballs in challenges to overcome. The charges against the defendant are not easily dismissed with such overwhelming evidence on hand. Cruelty to animals. Criminal trespassing. Obstruction of justice. Accessory to cannibalism. Impersonating a Rush fan.

 

All of these claims are tall orders to overcome in Sheriff Howard’s town. The Sheriff, who has been a rock of stability for the city, has called a 10:00 am press conference for the accused. As media outlets push and shove for front row seats, the Yukon Blade Grinder is already there for today’s media event. Sheriff Howard steps up to the podium, accompanied by a shackled Rush Goober, lawyer in tow.

 

Today’s transcript:

 

Sheriff Howard: Been a very quiet weekend here. Thankfully things have calmed down since last week’s well-documented shock. Street crews have cleaned up the last of the ostrich and emu carcasses from our highly successful feeding program. We’re experiencing boisterous crowds outside Neverland Ranch, so we have a constant visible police presence. The Seven Cities of Gold dancers are in a safe house provided by Mr. Larry Flynt, and currently dealing with their own set of legal troubles.

 

Today’s press conference isn’t typical. We’re giving the accused access to you folks in order to say his piece before stepping into the courtroom. The county judge has given special leeway for this to happen. As you all know, Judge Hhang M. Hi, has a soft spot in her heart for dwarves, and Rush Goober fits the bill. So with that said, here’s the man of the moment.

 

Rush Goober: Can somebody please get a stool so I can see over the podium please? Either that, or some phone books to stand on—what kind of an operation is this?

 

Ok, I know that it doesn’t look good holed up at Neverland Ranch with a bunch of strippers in a barn illegally. At one time I was a welcomed friend on the premises. It honestly felt like home to me. After our dismissal from the Clockwork Angels Tour, we were very pissed about the way it was handled. So, the dancers and I just decided to take off and deal with our frustrations and anxiety in a healthy way. Things turned out very different than I ever envisioned.

 

I want to be as transparent as I can. That means brutal honesty. You can ask me any questions you want and I’ll do my best to give you a straightforward and honest answer. I’m told that I have a limited time to field questions. I can’t believe all the reporters here, hard to pick the first one to start off—Ok let’s go with you!

 

Songbird Magazine: Your relationship with Michael Jackson has been described as duo, not unlike Elton John’s collaboration with Bernie Taupin. Is that an accurate portrayal?

Rush Goober: Kind of…we weren’t “lovers” in the literal sense. We were just artists seeking the highest plateau of creativity. Michael would call me up from the guesthouse and just give me these incredible ideas. I would expand them in any and all directions. That’s how we wrote the hits. I had to live on the estate because he’s demanding when he was inspired—had to feed my muse ya know.

Songbird Magazine: What was the cause of the fractured relationship?

Rush Goober: Ever watch a TV show called “Webster”? f***ing Emmanuel Lewis! He was the cause. Next question.

 

David Fricke, RollingStone Magazine: You were a part of the British Repertoire’s Acclaimed Wee Legion, the vaunted acting troupe chosen to bring to life Clockwork Angels in a visual sense, what was your role?

Rush Goober: I was the cabin boy in the song The Wreckers and I was shot out of a cannon during the song Headlong Flight. Everyone in the troupe performed three or four roles for the entire show though.

David Fricke, RollingStone Magazine: We’ve been informed that your dismissal from the employ of Anthem Entertainment was because of a melee at the Orbit Room, the well-known establishment of guitarist Alex Lifeson. What exactly happened that ill-fated night?

Rush Goober: Well, it all started after a rehearsal. Treeduck was messing around on Neil’s kit, playing Hot for Teacher, which is no easy feat. Neil came over and commented on his execution of the song. Treeduck then issued a challenge to Rush for a “Battle of the Bands” at the Orbit Room. They accepted. So the BRAWL’rs threw together a group comprised of four blokes, wrote some songs. They performed and actually won the competition, hands down. Rush is just a bunch of sore losers plain and simple. Hector, Treeduck, Grau, and Tony kicked their ass every which way to Sunday. When Geddy, Neil, and Alex changed the rules midstream everybody got pissed and the fisticuffs started. Never pick on a gang of dwarves—you'll lose every time!

 

The American Journal of Medicine: Rumors have it the band supplied a stimulant to the acting troupe called Todem Natural Male Enhancement as a perk. Is that true?

Rush Goober: Yes, and I highly recommend it. Best thing the band has put out since Hemispheres in my opinion. It works.

The American Journal of Medicine: Did that increase aggression and sexual tension?

Rush Goober: It put a great deal of pressure on the Seven Cities of Gold dancers. Hey, when your work environment was like ours you tend to hit on your co-workers. When we took the medication they seemed to always be around. They thought it was cute and funny at first, hanging around a bunch of randy dwarves. But the power of Todem is not to be denied—just ask the dancers. Next question

 

The Yukon Blade Grinder: What’s with the nose? Why did you feed the dancers the nose of Michael Jackson?

Rush Goober: Michael gave it to me as a parting gift. Told me it would be worth millions on the open market. When I couldn’t establish the true owner of the nose legally, I was hamstrung. So during our time at Neverland, I thought it would be cool to be “one” with Michael once again, so we all took part in the ceremony.

The Yukon Blade Grinder: Is it true you wrote The way you make me feel? And if so, who do you write that about?

Rush Goober: I wrote it for Michael. I miss him so, so much….sniff. I didn’t mean to hurt anybody…sniff. Sorry if I did!

 

Sheriff Howard: Ok, folks our allotted time is up for questioning. This is obviously and emotional time for all parties involved. We’ll learn more at the actual hearings. Thank you for your patience and pleasant demeanors during an awfully unpleasant time.

 

In closing, I do need to mention that we’ve hacked into Rush Goober’s laptop. So much information to go through. It appears he was writing several books at the time of capture centering on a character known only by the initials TM. One called “The Life Works of TM: Understanding the Maze”. He was also was writing a lexicon of this person’s contribution to print media, which is quite substantial. We think they're relatives. We’ll know more about that later as our code breakers work on it

 

--End transcript--

Rush Goober. Villain? Misunderstood artist? The Yukon Blade Grinder is on a quest to find the answer to that very question. As our role grows in the full realization of this mystery, one thing's for sure...it doesn’t get any easier from here. With our field agents scouring Santa Barbara to gain more insight into the “Spirits of Neverland Ranch” we’re confident we’ll get to the bottom of this quandary. One painful step at a time.

Can this situation get any weirder?

 

Yes.

[Tombstone Mountain]

? Edited November 20, 2013 by Tombstone Mountain

[Tombstone Mountain]

The Yukon Blade Grinder: Scorned Woman Edition

 

 

11.20.13

 

As the stars look down on the Yukon Blade Grinder, they certainly do it with a smile. Fortune favors the bold, and the Grinder put up a small fortune for the opportunity to interview the victims of the deranged “Spirits of Neverland Ranch” cult leader—Rush Goober. Safely making it back to the real world, the victims are ready to speak and let their story be told. Wanting to deal with a “legitimate” media outlet, the Yukon Blade Grinder was the only choice for these ladies to share their tale of woe and frustration. $10,000 bucks seemed a like pittance to help heal the wounds of this talented group. Only to happy to accept the money, Hustler founder Larry Flynt opened the door of opportunity for our oft imitated, yet never duplicated news beacon.

 

Great Expectations

 

At one point they were destined to be the highlight of attending a Rush show during the gigantic Clockwork Angels tour. Never before had the band been accompanied onstage. Eager to stretch beyond the familiar, Rush has never lacked ambition. Within minutes of the albums release, the epic “Seven Cities of Gold” skyrocketed to the top of the Canadian Adult Music charts, and it seemed only logical to pursue a duel threat of talent—exotic dance and virtuoso musicianship. Could such a combination be found?

 

Painstakingly scouring the depths of gentlemen’s clubs throughout the Great White North, Anthem Entertainment auditioned hundreds of women who fit the bill. A mere handful received the lifelong credential of being called a “Seven Cities of Gold” dancer. To stand in front of a talent-judging panel consisting of band manager Ray Danniels with Geddy, Alex and Neil was no cakewalk, and those who persevered through the gauntlet were proud to live out every Canadian woman’s dream.

 

Ever proactive, the dancers decided to have a “get to know each other” group survival outing with Les Stroud before band rehearsals. Knowing the skills of a performing musician are much different than just taking your clothes off in front of random men, they dedicated two months to learning each other’s instruments, just in case an emergency popped up and someone needed to pick up the slack. For hours upon hours they practiced on the frozen tundra of the Yukon, eating only what they found foraging, or from what they killed with their lethal arrows. Elk, moose, and their favorite red meat—beaver—had no chance against this group’s tenacious survival instincts and keen eye for the hunted.

 

Such dedication would be rewarded in someway they thought. No one wanted to be responsible for ruining the show. Spending hours upon hours in the gym toning up bodies and learning to dance in 7/8 time, the dancers put in the sweat to make the dream a fulfilling one. It seemed the axiom “perspiration causes inspiration” became the defining slogan for these minx of the Great White North. However, as rehearsals commenced and additional bit players were added to the mix, issues arose like towering flames of a funeral pyre.

 

The Flawed Couple

 

It was no surprise the SCOG dancers would be colleagues of another highly regarded performing group, the British Repertoires Acclaimed Wee Legion. Those words alone have spelled trouble for every movie requiring elite performing dwarfs, and the Yukon Blade Grinder has some experience with this crew. Supplying the needs for films such as the timeless Harry Potter saga, Lord of the Rings, Willow, and Time Bandits, the acting troupe is the lone giant of this tiny acting niche. Known for mayhem and mischief, yet in the opinion of Anthem Entertainment, well worth the potential snares of the talent vs. aggravation trade-off. The BRAWL’rs filled the unique role of bringing the story of Clockwork Angels to life. At first the union was joyful and full of wonder, as all parties felt excited about becoming a part of the Rush family.

 

Always professional when on the clock, the team enjoyed the nightlife a little too much it seems. Hitting the town after hours and appearing in tabloids dancing on tables at local establishments, whispers of doubt began to creep into company official’s minds as more and more chicanery arose. It turns out that was only the start of an ill-fated relationship destined to end up in flames.

 

The Interview: Part One

 

The Yukon Blade Grinder, with this unprecedented access, now answers some of the lingering questions alive in the mind of its readers. Upon entering the safe house supplied by Mr. Flynt we got the exclusive story behind the “Spirits of Neverland Ranch” debacle. Guided into a conference room we see the ladies looking fresh and healthy, ready to clear the air regarding this saga. With placards marked only by stage names, the Grinder starts the questions rolling, however there is but one spokeswoman for the group, Robin Redbreasts. In her right hand she holds six leashes, each one attached to a SCOG dancer. It’s obvious she’s in charge. With this first installment, we probe into the minds of the Seven Cities of Gold dancers:

 

YBG: Thanks for the opportunity to meet you all today. Wow, you all look great. I love the tattoos. Turns out you all appear to be “granola girls”, not afraid of living in the elements I see. Fair to say the world is waiting for some insight into this mess. One thing people are dying to know, why? Why did you follow Rush Goober to Neverland and become a part of this cult

RR: Well, it was just a tough situation. The Orbit Room melee marked a defining moment for us. When we found out the band was giving the BRAWL’rs these stimulants called Todem, it explained away some of the mystery for their overly aggressive behavior. It made our workplace environment more stressful than it needed to be. Alex thought it was this big freaking joke when he mentioned it to us when the BRAWL’rs band was playing.

 

YBG: What was the name of the make shift band of midgets?

RR: Oedipus Complex 4. Pretty good I gotta admit! Slamming dwarf metal.

 

YBG: Ok, back to my question. You all should be use to being the objects of affection, I mean, you’re strippers. What was the straw that broke the camel’s back?

RR: Yeah, we’re used to not having eye contact when we speak to men, always checking out our racks, but the BRAWL’rs are dwarfs. They’re looking up our skirts. Bit annoying. However Goobs didn’t do any of that. He seemed to understand our situation. So we felt he was “different” than the rest of the trolls. After we got canned, he offered up this plan to help dilute the pain and disappointment of being let go. It worked for a little while, that was until he wanted us to pose naked on the animals at the Ranch—that’s where we drew the line. f**k his calendar idea!

 

YBG: You trained endlessly for the CA gig. What was it like to play with the icons of Canada?

RR: Awesome at first. Every time we played our instruments it was a blast. We loved rocking out to Manhattan Project and The Wreckers. And the dancing was even better. We were practically drooling over the chance to do our thing at a Rush concert. It’s all men and we knew the tips would flow endlessly. When the subject came up about collecting the money, which was a real fly in the ointment, the band said those funds were going to be used for their pet charity project, the Toronto Urban Resource Developmental League. It’s a reform program for incarcerated teen gangbangers from inner city Toronto. They made a big deal out of it. Even brought in Mayor Rob Ford during one of our rehearsals. It was fun watching him dry hump Neil’s bass drum during YYZ. I wonder how he’s doing now?

 

YBG: Not too well. Now, back to the story at hand. There are rumors that Rush tried to distribute a medication to the dance group to help with PMS symptoms…I believe it was called “Hand over Fist”, is that true?

RR: Yes. To their credit it got rid of the cramps, but just gave us splitting headaches instead. Overall, most women prefer cramps over a splitting migraine

 

YBG: Hmmm OK. Now you were documented chanting what appear to be lyrics from a Rush album called Vapor Trails while incarcerated…why?

RR: Honestly after eating Michael Jackson’s nose, we felt we were imbued with special powers. We kept repeating the lyrics to “Secret Touch” and “One Little Victory” with the hopes that Goobs would telepathically sense our group chants, thus experiencing endless torture …did it work?

YBG: I dunno…it sure puzzled the hell out of the investigators.

 

YBG: ok, Larry Flynt posted your bail. You all know of him, I see that a couple of you have made films for him. What’s he like to hang out with?

RR: Oh just like the BRAWL’rs, except he’s not getting out of that wheelchair to harass us.

 

 

 

--End of Part I--

 

This is getting juicy folks with the most interesting of questions to come. The Yukon Blade Grinder has been invited to spend the evening here at the safe house, free from the parameters of an interview. I do hope my cohorts at the Thistle Dew Motel understand when I don’t show up this evening with dinner. This is earth-shaking material I’m uncovering and someone needs to step in the breach to report the news…I hope I’m up for the task![/size]

Edited November 21, 2013 by Tombstone Mountain

[Lorraine]

:clap: :clap: :clap: I honestly don't know how you do it. My imagination is good, but yours is beyond even my comprehension. :ebert: :ebert: :ebert:

[Tombstone Mountain]

:clap: :clap: :clap: I honestly don't know how you do it. My imagination is good, but yours is beyond even my comprehension. :ebert: :ebert: :ebert:

That's what she said! :D-13:

[Babycat]

Absolutely awesome!

[ThatLightInYourEyes]

Ah, HERE it is! As I said before, I tried clicking on the link on your page and it was as useless as Larry Flynt without his Viagra shipments.

[Tombstone Mountain]

Ah, HERE it is! As I said before, I tried clicking on the link on your page and it was as useless as Larry Flynt without his Viagra shipments.

Sorry about that...it doesn't work because its not real.

[Tombstone Mountain]

The Yukon Blade Grinder: Scorned Woman Edition

 

 

11.20.13

 

As the stars look down on the Yukon Blade Grinder, they certainly do it with a smile. Fortune favors the bold, and the Grinder put up a small fortune for the opportunity to interview the victims of the deranged “Spirits of Neverland Ranch” cult leader—Rush Goober. Safely making it back to the real world, the victims are ready to speak and let their story be told. Wanting to deal with a “legitimate” media outlet, the Yukon Blade Grinder was the only choice for these ladies to share their tale of woe and frustration. $10,000 bucks seemed a like pittance to help heal the wounds of this talented group. Only to happy to accept the money, Hustler founder Larry Flynt opened the door of opportunity for our oft imitated, yet never duplicated news beacon.

 

Great Expectations

 

At one point they were destined to be the highlight of attending a Rush show during the gigantic Clockwork Angels tour. Never before had the band been accompanied onstage. Eager to stretch beyond the familiar, Rush has never lacked ambition. Within minutes of the albums release, the epic “Seven Cities of Gold” skyrocketed to the top of the Canadian Adult Music charts, and it seemed only logical to pursue a duel threat of talent—exotic dance and virtuoso musicianship. Could such a combination be found?

 

Painstakingly scouring the depths of gentlemen’s clubs throughout the Great White North, Anthem Entertainment auditioned hundreds of women who fit the bill. A mere handful received the lifelong credential of being called a “Seven Cities of Gold” dancer. To stand in front of a talent-judging panel consisting of band manager Ray Danniels with Geddy, Alex and Neil was no cakewalk, and those who persevered through the gauntlet were proud to live out every Canadian woman’s dream.

 

Ever proactive, the dancers decided to have a “get to know each other” group survival outing with Les Stroud before band rehearsals. Knowing the skills of a performing musician are much different than just taking your clothes off in front of random men, they dedicated two months to learning each other’s instruments, just in case an emergency popped up and someone needed to pick up the slack. For hours upon hours they practiced on the frozen tundra of the Yukon, eating only what they found foraging, or from what they killed with their lethal arrows. Elk, moose, and their favorite red meat—beaver—had no chance against this group’s tenacious survival instincts and keen eye for the hunted.

 

Such dedication would be rewarded in someway they thought. No one wanted to be responsible for ruining the show. Spending hours upon hours in the gym toning up bodies and learning to dance in 7/8 time, the dancers put in the sweat to make the dream a fulfilling one. It seemed the axiom “perspiration causes inspiration” became the defining slogan for these minx of the Great White North. However, as rehearsals commenced and additional bit players were added to the mix, issues arose like towering flames of a funeral pyre.

 

The Flawed Couple

 

It was no surprise the SCOG dancers would be colleagues of another highly regarded performing group, the British Repertoires Acclaimed Wee Legion. Those words alone have spelled trouble for every movie requiring elite performing dwarfs, and the Yukon Blade Grinder has some experience with this crew. Supplying the needs for films such as the timeless Harry Potter saga, Lord of the Rings, Willow, and Time Bandits, the acting troupe is the lone giant of this tiny acting niche. Known for mayhem and mischief, yet in the opinion of Anthem Entertainment, well worth the potential snares of the talent vs. aggravation trade-off. The BRAWL’rs filled the unique role of bringing the story of Clockwork Angels to life. At first the union was joyful and full of wonder, as all parties felt excited about becoming a part of the Rush family.

 

Always professional when on the clock, the team enjoyed the nightlife a little too much it seems. Hitting the town after hours and appearing in tabloids dancing on tables at local establishments, whispers of doubt began to creep into company official’s minds as more and more chicanery arose. It turns out that was only the start of an ill-fated relationship destined to end up in flames.

 

The Interview: Part One

 

The Yukon Blade Grinder, with this unprecedented access, now answers some of the lingering questions alive in the mind of its readers. Upon entering the safe house supplied by Mr. Flynt we got the exclusive story behind the “Spirits of Neverland Ranch” debacle. Guided into a conference room we see the ladies looking fresh and healthy, ready to clear the air regarding this saga. With placards marked only by stage names, the Grinder starts the questions rolling, however there is but one spokeswoman for the group, Robin Redbreasts. In her right hand she holds six leashes, each one attached to a SCOG dancer. It’s obvious she’s in charge. With this first installment, we probe into the minds of the Seven Cities of Gold dancers:

 

YBG: Thanks for the opportunity to meet you all today. Wow, you all look great. I love the tattoos. Turns out you all appear to be “granola girls”, not afraid of living in the elements I see. Fair to say the world is waiting for some insight into this mess. One thing people are dying to know, why? Why did you follow Rush Goober to Neverland and become a part of this cult

RR: Well, it was just a tough situation. The Orbit Room melee marked a defining moment for us. When we found out the band was giving the BRAWL’rs these stimulants called Todem, it explained away some of the mystery for their overly aggressive behavior. It made our workplace environment more stressful than it needed to be. Alex thought it was this big freaking joke when he mentioned it to us when the BRAWL’rs band was playing.

 

YBG: What was the name of the make shift band of midgets?

RR: Oedipus Complex 4. Pretty good I gotta admit! Slamming dwarf metal.

 

YBG: Ok, back to my question. You all should be use to being the objects of affection, I mean, you’re strippers. What was the straw that broke the camel’s back?

RR: Yeah, we’re used to not having eye contact when we speak to men, always checking out our racks, but the BRAWL’rs are dwarfs. They’re looking up our skirts. Bit annoying. However Goobs didn’t do any of that. He seemed to understand our situation. So we felt he was “different” than the rest of the trolls. After we got canned, he offered up this plan to help dilute the pain and disappointment of being let go. It worked for a little while, that was until he wanted us to pose naked on the animals at the Ranch—that’s where we drew the line. f**k his calendar idea!

 

YBG: You trained endlessly for the CA gig. What was it like to play with the icons of Canada?

RR: Awesome at first. Every time we played our instruments it was a blast. We loved rocking out to Manhattan Project and The Wreckers. And the dancing was even better. We were practically drooling over the chance to do our thing at a Rush concert. It’s all men and we knew the tips would flow endlessly. When the subject came up about collecting the money, which was a real fly in the ointment, the band said those funds were going to be used for their pet charity project, the Toronto Urban Resource Developmental League. It’s a reform program for incarcerated teen gangbangers from inner city Toronto. They made a big deal out of it. Even brought in Mayor Rob Ford during one of our rehearsals. It was fun watching him dry hump Neil’s bass drum during YYZ. I wonder how he’s doing now?

 

YBG: Not too well. Now, back to the story at hand. There are rumors that Rush tried to distribute a medication to the dance group to help with PMS symptoms…I believe it was called “Hand over Fist”, is that true?

RR: Yes. To their credit it got rid of the cramps, but just gave us splitting headaches instead. Overall, most women prefer cramps over a splitting migraine

 

YBG: Hmmm OK. Now you were documented chanting what appear to be lyrics from a Rush album called Vapor Trails while incarcerated…why?

RR: Honestly after eating Michael Jackson’s nose, we felt we were imbued with special powers. We kept repeating the lyrics to “Secret Touch” and “One Little Victory” with the hopes that Goobs would telepathically sense our group chants, thus experiencing endless torture …did it work?

YBG: I dunno…it sure puzzled the hell out of the investigators.

 

YBG: ok, Larry Flynt posted your bail. You all know of him, I see that a couple of you have made films for him. What’s he like to hang out with?

RR: Oh just like the BRAWL’rs, except he’s not getting out of that wheelchair to harass us.

 

 

 

--End of Part I--

 

This is getting juicy folks with the most interesting of questions come. The Yukon Blade Grinder has been invited to spend the evening here at the safe house, free from the parameters of an interview. I do hope my cohorts at the Thistle Dew Motel understand when I don’t show up this evening with dinner. This is earth-shaking material I’m uncovering and someone needs to step in the breach to report the news…I hope I’m up for the task!

Les Stroud commented on his experience with the SCOG dancers. He felt women are better equipped to handle freezing climates because of their ability to band together. Especially in the igloo they made...said it had a working toilet.

[ThatLightInYourEyes]

Ah, HERE it is! As I said before, I tried clicking on the link on your page and it was as useless as Larry Flynt without his Viagra shipments.

Sorry about that...it doesn't work because its not real.

 

I was wondering about that whole custom domain thing. Still relatively new here, I guess, despite the obsessive participation.

[Lorraine]

Ah, HERE it is! As I said before, I tried clicking on the link on your page and it was as useless as Larry Flynt without his Viagra shipments.

Sorry about that...it doesn't work because its not real.

 

I was wondering about that whole custom domain thing. Still relatively new here, I guess, despite the obsessive participation.

That's all right. He wrote a phony Rolling Stone review a month or so ago that I thought was real.

[HomesickAlien]

The Yukon Blade Grinder: Scorned Woman Edition

 

 

11.20.13

 

As the stars look down on the Yukon Blade Grinder, they certainly do it with a smile. Fortune favors the bold, and the Grinder put up a small fortune for the opportunity to interview the victims of the deranged “Spirits of Neverland Ranch” cult leader—Rush Goober. Safely making it back to the real world, the victims are ready to speak and let their story be told. Wanting to deal with a “legitimate” media outlet, the Yukon Blade Grinder was the only choice for these ladies to share their tale of woe and frustration. $10,000 bucks seemed a like pittance to help heal the wounds of this talented group. Only to happy to accept the money, Hustler founder Larry Flynt opened the door of opportunity for our oft imitated, yet never duplicated news beacon.

 

Great Expectations

 

At one point they were destined to be the highlight of attending a Rush show during the gigantic Clockwork Angels tour. Never before had the band been accompanied onstage. Eager to stretch beyond the familiar, Rush has never lacked ambition. Within minutes of the albums release, the epic “Seven Cities of Gold” skyrocketed to the top of the Canadian Adult Music charts, and it seemed only logical to pursue a duel threat of talent—exotic dance and virtuoso musicianship. Could such a combination be found?

 

Painstakingly scouring the depths of gentlemen’s clubs throughout the Great White North, Anthem Entertainment auditioned hundreds of women who fit the bill. A mere handful received the lifelong credential of being called a “Seven Cities of Gold” dancer. To stand in front of a talent-judging panel consisting of band manager Ray Danniels with Geddy, Alex and Neil was no cakewalk, and those who persevered through the gauntlet were proud to live out every Canadian woman’s dream.

 

Ever proactive, the dancers decided to have a “get to know each other” group survival outing with Les Stroud before band rehearsals. Knowing the skills of a performing musician are much different than just taking your clothes off in front of random men, they dedicated two months to learning each other’s instruments, just in case an emergency popped up and someone needed to pick up the slack. For hours upon hours they practiced on the frozen tundra of the Yukon, eating only what they found foraging, or from what they killed with their lethal arrows. Elk, moose, and their favorite red meat—beaver—had no chance against this group’s tenacious survival instincts and keen eye for the hunted.

 

Such dedication would be rewarded in someway they thought. No one wanted to be responsible for ruining the show. Spending hours upon hours in the gym toning up bodies and learning to dance in 7/8 time, the dancers put in the sweat to make the dream a fulfilling one. It seemed the axiom “perspiration causes inspiration” became the defining slogan for these minx of the Great White North. However, as rehearsals commenced and additional bit players were added to the mix, issues arose like towering flames of a funeral pyre.

 

The Flawed Couple

 

It was no surprise the SCOG dancers would be colleagues of another highly regarded performing group, the British Repertoires Acclaimed Wee Legion. Those words alone have spelled trouble for every movie requiring elite performing dwarfs, and the Yukon Blade Grinder has some experience with this crew. Supplying the needs for films such as the timeless Harry Potter saga, Lord of the Rings, Willow, and Time Bandits, the acting troupe is the lone giant of this tiny acting niche. Known for mayhem and mischief, yet in the opinion of Anthem Entertainment, well worth the potential snares of the talent vs. aggravation trade-off. The BRAWL’rs filled the unique role of bringing the story of Clockwork Angels to life. At first the union was joyful and full of wonder, as all parties felt excited about becoming a part of the Rush family.

 

Always professional when on the clock, the team enjoyed the nightlife a little too much it seems. Hitting the town after hours and appearing in tabloids dancing on tables at local establishments, whispers of doubt began to creep into company official’s minds as more and more chicanery arose. It turns out that was only the start of an ill-fated relationship destined to end up in flames.

 

The Interview: Part One

 

The Yukon Blade Grinder, with this unprecedented access, now answers some of the lingering questions alive in the mind of its readers. Upon entering the safe house supplied by Mr. Flynt we got the exclusive story behind the “Spirits of Neverland Ranch” debacle. Guided into a conference room we see the ladies looking fresh and healthy, ready to clear the air regarding this saga. With placards marked only by stage names, the Grinder starts the questions rolling, however there is but one spokeswoman for the group, Robin Redbreasts. In her right hand she holds six leashes, each one attached to a SCOG dancer. It’s obvious she’s in charge. With this first installment, we probe into the minds of the Seven Cities of Gold dancers:

 

YBG: Thanks for the opportunity to meet you all today. Wow, you all look great. I love the tattoos. Turns out you all appear to be “granola girls”, not afraid of living in the elements I see. Fair to say the world is waiting for some insight into this mess. One thing people are dying to know, why? Why did you follow Rush Goober to Neverland and become a part of this cult

RR: Well, it was just a tough situation. The Orbit Room melee marked a defining moment for us. When we found out the band was giving the BRAWL’rs these stimulants called Todem, it explained away some of the mystery for their overly aggressive behavior. It made our workplace environment more stressful than it needed to be. Alex thought it was this big freaking joke when he mentioned it to us when the BRAWL’rs band was playing.

 

YBG: What was the name of the make shift band of midgets?

RR: Oedipus Complex 4. Pretty good I gotta admit! Slamming dwarf metal.

 

YBG: Ok, back to my question. You all should be use to being the objects of affection, I mean, you’re strippers. What was the straw that broke the camel’s back?

RR: Yeah, we’re used to not having eye contact when we speak to men, always checking out our racks, but the BRAWL’rs are dwarfs. They’re looking up our skirts. Bit annoying. However Goobs didn’t do any of that. He seemed to understand our situation. So we felt he was “different” than the rest of the trolls. After we got canned, he offered up this plan to help dilute the pain and disappointment of being let go. It worked for a little while, that was until he wanted us to pose naked on the animals at the Ranch—that’s where we drew the line. f**k his calendar idea!

 

YBG: You trained endlessly for the CA gig. What was it like to play with the icons of Canada?

RR: Awesome at first. Every time we played our instruments it was a blast. We loved rocking out to Manhattan Project and The Wreckers. And the dancing was even better. We were practically drooling over the chance to do our thing at a Rush concert. It’s all men and we knew the tips would flow endlessly. When the subject came up about collecting the money, which was a real fly in the ointment, the band said those funds were going to be used for their pet charity project, the Toronto Urban Resource Developmental League. It’s a reform program for incarcerated teen gangbangers from inner city Toronto. They made a big deal out of it. Even brought in Mayor Rob Ford during one of our rehearsals. It was fun watching him dry hump Neil’s bass drum during YYZ. I wonder how he’s doing now?

 

YBG: Not too well. Now, back to the story at hand. There are rumors that Rush tried to distribute a medication to the dance group to help with PMS symptoms…I believe it was called “Hand over Fist”, is that true?

RR: Yes. To their credit it got rid of the cramps, but just gave us splitting headaches instead. Overall, most women prefer cramps over a splitting migraine

 

YBG: Hmmm OK. Now you were documented chanting what appear to be lyrics from a Rush album called Vapor Trails while incarcerated…why?

RR: Honestly after eating Michael Jackson’s nose, we felt we were imbued with special powers. We kept repeating the lyrics to “Secret Touch” and “One Little Victory” with the hopes that Goobs would telepathically sense our group chants, thus experiencing endless torture …did it work?

YBG: I dunno…it sure puzzled the hell out of the investigators.

 

YBG: ok, Larry Flynt posted your bail. You all know of him, I see that a couple of you have made films for him. What’s he like to hang out with?

RR: Oh just like the BRAWL’rs, except he’s not getting out of that wheelchair to harass us.

 

 

 

--End of Part I--

 

This is getting juicy folks with the most interesting of questions come. The Yukon Blade Grinder has been invited to spend the evening here at the safe house, free from the parameters of an interview. I do hope my cohorts at the Thistle Dew Motel understand when I don’t show up this evening with dinner. This is earth-shaking material I’m uncovering and someone needs to step in the breach to report the news…I hope I’m up for the task!

 

[HomesickAlien]

I hate to break it to Substance, but if things aren't resolved with Goobs soon, I have to depart for another mission of mercy on the other side of the great "united" States. I received a Federal Express letter today requesting my expertise and presence to resolve yet another thorny matter. Even as I type, my friends at the NYPD are busy investigating the matter. The word is that a man from Germany is involved who has an accomplice that lives in Italy. This should be interesting.

 

If greyfriar and H.P.L. are willing to allow poor Goober to languish in a cell, they don't deserve your expertise.

 

There's not much I can do on this side of the Atlantic, except spend sleepless nights waiting for news to come up. I am resorting to listening to King Crimson's "Three of a perfect pair" on loop to stay awake. Still, it has affected my language and behaviour. I am calling radio shows here in Italy to let the people know about Goobs, but somehow I end up sounding like a lunatic, and they hang up on me. ON AIR! I have written letters to newspapers but they don't get printed, instead they print letters about the new Zucchero album. How's that?

No way I can make it to the US unless a truck driver friend of mine gives me a ride. He has to deliver an antique troumeau to the villa of an aristocrat in the city of Magadan, eastern Siberia. He says I could easily get a lift to California from there. Point is, it would take us 4 months to get to Magadan and it's rainy season.

So what should I do? Loyalty is taking a big toll off me. BTW, what has this Goober REALLY done for me lately? Eh? What have you done for me lately, Goober?

 

If you could make it to Vladivostok, I understand Tombstone will pay for first class transport to the Thistle Dew.

[HomesickAlien]

Undoubtedly, one and all (what does the "all" add up to now? three?) are wondering where I've been.

 

All I can say is I was saved by Lakeisha and two of her dancing and ukulele playing Sisters.

 

On my way up to tea with Norman's mother, I became aware of a car horn beeping furiously. Lo and behold, there was Lakeisha and two of her cronies. She asked me where I was going. When I told her, she said that I shouldn't do that unless I wanted to wind up in a taxidermist office. I've learned not to ask any questions (for fear of hearing the answers), so I obediently hopped into the back seat and off we went.

 

Really, I should have at least asked where we were going because the next thing I knew we were driving up the endless driveway to Larry Flynt's estate. The first thing I saw was Tombstone chasing that chimpanzee in a negligee around the grounds. Very troublesome sight. We must have a talk with the man.

 

Larry very graciously greeted me and promised to be on his best behavior. We all have different definitions of "best" apparently, as mine does not line up with Larry's. Be that as it may, we spent an enjoyable evening watching old Pola Negri silent films and snacking on granola and carrot sticks. Wretched combination. Don't try it. Then Larry further entertained us by reading random chapters from his very much read and dog-eared copy of Hollywood Babylon.

 

My experiences in Southern Cal have given a new meaning to the word "bizarre" to me.

 

 

You have a habit of finding trouble when you leave the Thistle Dew unescorted.

 

I apologize if all the racket is preventing you from getting some much needed rest after your night with Larry and the girls (Oh, and Tombstone) , but I've been up on the roof all day replacing tiles.

 

Norman was in an unusually foul mood this morning. He had a big night on the town planned yesterday, his first in years, but his date cancelled at the last minute. To make matters worse, Tombstone's latest rent check bounced, and he said we'll have to earn our keep around here. He asked me to take a look at a stubborn stain in one of the showers after I finish with the roof.

 

Tombstone graced us with a brief visit. He dropped off that VHS copy of Forbidden Paradise that you won in the poker game with Flynt last night.

 

I hope Tombstone seeks counseling for that chimp fetish. I spied that poor creature in the passenger seat, wearing a Bubba's Bar & Grill t-shirt and a kufi. Very troubling, indeed.

 

Is Bubbles still alive?

Edited November 20, 2013 by substancewithoutstyle

[Lorraine]

I hate to break it to Substance, but if things aren't resolved with Goobs soon, I have to depart for another mission of mercy on the other side of the great "united" States. I received a Federal Express letter today requesting my expertise and presence to resolve yet another thorny matter. Even as I type, my friends at the NYPD are busy investigating the matter. The word is that a man from Germany is involved who has an accomplice that lives in Italy. This should be interesting.

 

If greyfriar and H.P.L. are willing to allow poor Goober to languish in a cell, they don't deserve your expertise.

 

There's not much I can do on this side of the Atlantic, except spend sleepless nights waiting for news to come up. I am resorting to listening to King Crimson's "Three of a perfect pair" on loop to stay awake. Still, it has affected my language and behaviour. I am calling radio shows here in Italy to let the people know about Goobs, but somehow I end up sounding like a lunatic, and they hang up on me. ON AIR! I have written letters to newspapers but they don't get printed, instead they print letters about the new Zucchero album. How's that?

No way I can make it to the US unless a truck driver friend of mine gives me a ride. He has to deliver an antique troumeau to the villa of an aristocrat in the city of Magadan, eastern Siberia. He says I could easily get a lift to California from there. Point is, it would take us 4 months to get to Magadan and it's rainy season.

So what should I do? Loyalty is taking a big toll off me. BTW, what has this Goober REALLY done for me lately? Eh? What have you done for me lately, Goober?

 

If you could make it to Vladivostok, I understand Tombstone will pay for first class transport to the Thistle Dew.

First class transport to a first class joint - what's not to find enticing in the offer?

 

He would even get us thrown into the deal. What more could anyone sane soul want?

[Lorraine]

Undoubtedly, one and all (what does the "all" add up to now? three?) are wondering where I've been.

 

All I can say is I was saved by Lakeisha and two of her dancing and ukulele playing Sisters.

 

On my way up to tea with Norman's mother, I became aware of a car horn beeping furiously. Lo and behold, there was Lakeisha and two of her cronies. She asked me where I was going. When I told her, she said that I shouldn't do that unless I wanted to wind up in a taxidermist office. I've learned not to ask any questions (for fear of hearing the answers), so I obediently hopped into the back seat and off we went.

 

Really, I should have at least asked where we were going because the next thing I knew we were driving up the endless driveway to Larry Flynt's estate. The first thing I saw was Tombstone chasing that chimpanzee in a negligee around the grounds. Very troublesome sight. We must have a talk with the man.

 

Larry very graciously greeted me and promised to be on his best behavior. We all have different definitions of "best" apparently, as mine does not line up with Larry's. Be that as it may, we spent an enjoyable evening watching old Pola Negri silent films and snacking on granola and carrot sticks. Wretched combination. Don't try it. Then Larry further entertained us by reading random chapters from his very much read and dog-eared copy of Hollywood Babylon.

 

My experiences in Southern Cal have given a new meaning to the word "bizarre" to me.

 

 

You have a habit of finding trouble when you leave the Thistle Dew unescorted.

 

I apologize if all the racket is preventing you from getting some much needed rest after your night with Larry and the girls (Oh, and Tombstone) , but I've been up on the roof all day replacing tiles.

 

Norman was in an unusually foul mood this morning. He had a big night on the town planned yesterday, his first in years, but his date cancelled at the last minute. To make matters worse, Tombstone's latest rent check bounced, and he said we'll have to earn our keep around here. He asked me to take a look at a stubborn stain in one of the showers after I finish with the roof.

 

Tombstone graced us with a brief visit. He dropped of that VHS copy of Forbidden Paradise that you won in the poker game with Flynt last night.

 

I hope Tombstone seeks counseling for that chimp fetish. I spied that poor creature in the passenger seat, wearing a Bubba's Bar & Grill t-shirt and a kufi. Very troubling, indeed.

 

Is Bubbles still alive?

Yes, I know. From now on we have to have some type of buddy system in place. I seem to find trouble even when I'm not looking for it. And staying (more like living at the rate this crisis is taking to resolve itself) at the Thistle Dew is trouble enough. Now with Normie in a bad mood - ditched by his chick and taken by a bounced check - I do believe it is time to relocate. I wouldn't advise the Flynt Estate. Of course, Substance, you are free to choose to stay there, but count me out. I'd rather go back to living in a pitched tent and waking up with sleeping bad hair and puffy eyelids at Wonderland (or is it Neverland? Hard to keep everything straight anymore - pretty soon I'll need an I.D. bracelet just to remember my own name!).

 

As for your friend Bubbles, I have no news. Might try calling the investigative reporter at the Grinder. They know everything.

 

Has anyone heard from Goober?

[Tombstone Mountain]

I hate to break it to Substance, but if things aren't resolved with Goobs soon, I have to depart for another mission of mercy on the other side of the great "united" States. I received a Federal Express letter today requesting my expertise and presence to resolve yet another thorny matter. Even as I type, my friends at the NYPD are busy investigating the matter. The word is that a man from Germany is involved who has an accomplice that lives in Italy. This should be interesting.

 

If greyfriar and H.P.L. are willing to allow poor Goober to languish in a cell, they don't deserve your expertise.

 

There's not much I can do on this side of the Atlantic, except spend sleepless nights waiting for news to come up. I am resorting to listening to King Crimson's "Three of a perfect pair" on loop to stay awake. Still, it has affected my language and behaviour. I am calling radio shows here in Italy to let the people know about Goobs, but somehow I end up sounding like a lunatic, and they hang up on me. ON AIR! I have written letters to newspapers but they don't get printed, instead they print letters about the new Zucchero album. How's that?

No way I can make it to the US unless a truck driver friend of mine gives me a ride. He has to deliver an antique troumeau to the villa of an aristocrat in the city of Magadan, eastern Siberia. He says I could easily get a lift to California from there. Point is, it would take us 4 months to get to Magadan and it's rainy season.

So what should I do? Loyalty is taking a big toll off me. BTW, what has this Goober REALLY done for me lately? Eh? What have you done for me lately, Goober?

 

If you could make it to Vladivostok, I understand Tombstone will pay for first class transport to the Thistle Dew.

Yes I can do that...we can put it down as a business expense. Those pricks at corporate HQ will be none the wiser. Edited November 20, 2013 by Tombstone Mountain

[Lorraine]

I've got a few more expense chits for you to slip into the "business expense" account for reimbursement.

[Tombstone Mountain]

I've got a few more expense chits for you to slip into the "business expense" account for reimbursement.

No problem whadda ya got?

[Tombstone Mountain]

Undoubtedly, one and all (what does the "all" add up to now? three?) are wondering where I've been.

 

All I can say is I was saved by Lakeisha and two of her dancing and ukulele playing Sisters.

 

On my way up to tea with Norman's mother, I became aware of a car horn beeping furiously. Lo and behold, there was Lakeisha and two of her cronies. She asked me where I was going. When I told her, she said that I shouldn't do that unless I wanted to wind up in a taxidermist office. I've learned not to ask any questions (for fear of hearing the answers), so I obediently hopped into the back seat and off we went.

 

Really, I should have at least asked where we were going because the next thing I knew we were driving up the endless driveway to Larry Flynt's estate. The first thing I saw was Tombstone chasing that chimpanzee in a negligee around the grounds. Very troublesome sight. We must have a talk with the man.

 

Larry very graciously greeted me and promised to be on his best behavior. We all have different definitions of "best" apparently, as mine does not line up with Larry's. Be that as it may, we spent an enjoyable evening watching old Pola Negri silent films and snacking on granola and carrot sticks. Wretched combination. Don't try it. Then Larry further entertained us by reading random chapters from his very much read and dog-eared copy of Hollywood Babylon.

 

My experiences in Southern Cal have given a new meaning to the word "bizarre" to me.

 

 

You have a habit of finding trouble when you leave the Thistle Dew unescorted.

 

I apologize if all the racket is preventing you from getting some much needed rest after your night with Larry and the girls (Oh, and Tombstone) , but I've been up on the roof all day replacing tiles.

 

Norman was in an unusually foul mood this morning. He had a big night on the town planned yesterday, his first in years, but his date cancelled at the last minute. To make matters worse, Tombstone's latest rent check bounced, and he said we'll have to earn our keep around here. He asked me to take a look at a stubborn stain in one of the showers after I finish with the roof.

 

Tombstone graced us with a brief visit. He dropped off that VHS copy of Forbidden Paradise that you won in the poker game with Flynt last night.

 

I hope Tombstone seeks counseling for that chimp fetish. I spied that poor creature in the passenger seat, wearing a Bubba's Bar & Grill t-shirt and a kufi. Very troubling, indeed.

 

Is Bubbles still alive?

Undoubtedly, one and all (what does the "all" add up to now? three?) are wondering where I've been.

 

All I can say is I was saved by Lakeisha and two of her dancing and ukulele playing Sisters.

 

On my way up to tea with Norman's mother, I became aware of a car horn beeping furiously. Lo and behold, there was Lakeisha and two of her cronies. She asked me where I was going. When I told her, she said that I shouldn't do that unless I wanted to wind up in a taxidermist office. I've learned not to ask any questions (for fear of hearing the answers), so I obediently hopped into the back seat and off we went.

 

Really, I should have at least asked where we were going because the next thing I knew we were driving up the endless driveway to Larry Flynt's estate. The first thing I saw was Tombstone chasing that chimpanzee in a negligee around the grounds. Very troublesome sight. We must have a talk with the man.

 

Larry very graciously greeted me and promised to be on his best behavior. We all have different definitions of "best" apparently, as mine does not line up with Larry's. Be that as it may, we spent an enjoyable evening watching old Pola Negri silent films and snacking on granola and carrot sticks. Wretched combination. Don't try it. Then Larry further entertained us by reading random chapters from his very much read and dog-eared copy of Hollywood Babylon.

 

My experiences in Southern Cal have given a new meaning to the word "bizarre" to me.

 

 

You have a habit of finding trouble when you leave the Thistle Dew unescorted.

 

I apologize if all the racket is preventing you from getting some much needed rest after your night with Larry and the girls (Oh, and Tombstone) , but I've been up on the roof all day replacing tiles.

 

Norman was in an unusually foul mood this morning. He had a big night on the town planned yesterday, his first in years, but his date cancelled at the last minute. To make matters worse, Tombstone's latest rent check bounced, and he said we'll have to earn our keep around here. He asked me to take a look at a stubborn stain in one of the showers after I finish with the roof.

 

Tombstone graced us with a brief visit. He dropped off that VHS copy of Forbidden Paradise that you won in the poker game with Flynt last night.

 

I hope Tombstone seeks counseling for that chimp fetish. I spied that poor creature in the passenger seat, wearing a Bubba's Bar & Grill t-shirt and a kufi. Very troubling, indeed.

 

Is Bubbles still alive?

I saw Bubbles in the parking lot trying to light a tire with just one match. Needles to say he burnt his fingers. I think he needs new glasses.

[Lorraine]

The Seven Cities of Gold ladies coerced me to go out and buy an outfit like they wear. They even came with me to make sure it was a perfect fit They think I look cute in it! They're such flatterers. No wonder why Larry loves them!

 

Then there are all of those cans of Raid we had to go out and buy to kill the rodents and bed bugs. I've got a few chits for Milk Duds that I purchased. And the incense sticks and patchouli oil from the Hare Krishna folks. I almost bought one of their saffron robes. Had I known I could get reimbursed, I would have.

 

I'm sure substance has a bunch of stuff he'd like to get reimbursed for too.

Edited November 21, 2013 by Lorraine

[Tombstone Mountain]

The Seven Cities of Gold ladies coerced me to go out and buy an outfit like they wear. They even came with me to make sure it was a perfect fit They think I look cute in it! They're such flatterers. No wonder why Larry loves them!

 

Then there are all of those cans of Raid we had to go out and buy to kill the rodents and bed bugs. I've got a few chits for Milk Duds that I purchased. And the incense sticks and patchouli oil from the Hare Krishna folks. I almost bought one of their saffron robes. Had I known I could get reimbursed, I would have.

 

I'm sure substance has a bunch of stuff he'd like to get reimbursed for too.

They don't reimburse for dimebags...company policy