Cellar?! I Hardly Knew... the cellar...

Okay, so I haven't really started the new year with a blog-writin' bangeroo, have I? Well, what the fuck do you want from me, goddammit -- I'm a slow ramper-upper. Plus, I've been emptying out the goddamn hellmouth of a basement we have because, yes, the builder fellas start work on the ol' basement redo THIS MONDAY. This mofo is going to be the Taj Mahal of basement rehabs... the Taj Mahellmouth. It's even gonna have walls and a floor and lights and outlets and fancy shit like that. Plus, it'll no longer be so fucking cold that when I descend into it's murky, radon-spore infested nether-regions my nipples'll no longer snap off like a coupla liquid-nitrogen dipped pencil erasers.

I'll be Mister Fancy Basement, I will. With intact nipples! Warm, intact nipples. Mmmmm... intact nipples.

Anywhich, that's also the reason my song-a-week idea has been kiboshed upon 'cuz I had to move all my recording wizardry into my temporary office in the soon-to-be-guestroom. I suppose I could try to record them up here but it'd definitely have some serious pigfuck potential. And I think it's way too early in the year for a pigfuck, don't you?

Oh, and did I mention that the Old Lady leaves tomorrow for a four day jaunt in New Orleans for a "conference," while I'm stuck here in fucking Antfartica with the spawnage? Nothing like a long weekend with a coupla cooped-up spawnages and temperatures so fucking frigid outside that it could freeze a... a... something that's really hot that normally wouldn't freeze very readily.

AND the Old Lady's taking the "good car" to the airport, so we're stuck with the car with the treadless tires that are balder than... I dunno, balder than Howie Mandel's ball-sack. (I'll tell ya, not blogging for awhile has definitely taken a toll on my simile production capabilities. Gotta work on that.)

So, we'll see... maybe this weekend will produce the second song-a-week offering. Or maybe the spawnage will upload a recording of themselves beating me to death with their Dino-Tubulars. Hard to tell.

Stay tuned...

Song #1... 51 more to go...

All right, there's no fucking way I'm gonna crank out a song a week, but I did get the first one done over the weekend, so... one. I think it's a pretty fucking awesome tune with which to kick off the new year, I might add.

It's called "Dino Tubular" and it's a song the spawnage wrote about a mysterious gift they each received over the holidays. The lyrics are pretty self-explanatory, so I'll let them explain it. Oh, and if you like the song, please forward it to five friends. If I'm gonna be recording this shit, I want people to fucking hear it, ya know?

Ready, go.



Dino Tubular
by Mr. Z & Miss O

We got a package that felt like clothes
But what it was, nobody knows

We opened it up and what could it be?
Was it a toy, it was cylindar-y

Then we unrolled it and it had some writing
It said "Dino Tubular," was this for fighting?

Dino Tubular

We couldn't figure out what this thing was for
It had silhouettes of dinosaurs

We called our Gramma and then she shared
How to fill it up with lots and lots of air

And the we blew it up, and up, and up
Until it was the size of a Great Dane pup, yeah!

Dino Tubular

Then we whacked it, smacked, didn't treat it with care
We were bonking each other like two fightin' bears

It's like a light saber that's made of plastic
We hit each other till we got sorta spastic

From that day on Dino Tubular was fun
For mom and dad, zeke, olive and willa, everyone, yeah!

Dino Tubular