The First Sentence is the Deepest

frisbeetarianismThe First Sentence is the Deepest


I still haven’t begun to write this. I’m having a lot of trouble with the first sentence. Endings are pretty easy; I can end stuff all day. Nope, it’s the beginning that’s tough.

I’m also easily distracted by all the noise outside. My neighborhood seems to be the hotspot for crime-fighter parties, which tend to be a bit over the top. Frisbees get tossed completely around the Earth, arm wrestling is very popular, and someone always has a bit too much to drink and starts digging for China, often successfully. And now they’re flying around my yard and keep bumping into my kitchen window. I think they’re attacking their own reflections.

So, still no first sentence. I blame the goddamn little kids, including pets. Sperm manifestations with firm buttocks are all over the place. Embryos are tending bar so they need a legal guardian to pour my beer.  And my hilarious cross-references are greeted with blank stares. That “Space Food Sticks” bit was funny.

Goddamn little kids. I hope my age doesn’t stick out and poke you in the eye. In the immortally animated words of Comic Book Guy, “I do not know if I should laugh or cry at your ignorance. I think I shall laugh: ha ha.” At least, having been in several bands before you were born and being quite good at dialing a rotary phone, I can offer you the succulent fruits of my epic experience.



  • Laundry is silent. That’s how just one sock gets lost. Try walking home from the Laundromat backwards.
  • Singers: you need to open your vocal pores.
  • Guitar players: try laying out this measure. Don’t play just for a minute. Seriously. SHUT UP!!!
  • Bass players: the amount of drugs you bring to band practice has got to stop. You need to bring enough for everyone.
  • Drug users: moderation is very important. I tried cocaine once. For about ten years. And I didn’t really do any. I just like smelling it. 
  • If you are going to get wasted and fall off a balcony, skip the falling part.
  • Never light a beer bong.
  • Like boots, sidewalks are made for walking. Do not stop and circle like chuck wagons to form an outdoor chat room. There is a name for a place to get together with your friends and talk about nothing. It’s called a chat room. If you are on the sidewalk, lose the “chat” and make some “room.”
  • It’s okay to go see bands you’ve never heard of.


Okay, that’s it for now. So what do I do until next time? After five years of accidentally free cable, I have been discovered and shut off. Even my dreams now are old and in black-and-white. So now I guess I have to listen to music. Little slice of Of Montreal, big helpings of The Faint, maybe a pinch of Yello and a nice tall sifter of KMFDM.

My neighbor seems to hate music more than I do. But what kind of person pounds on the wall at Nilsson’s “Moonbeam Song?” Probably someone who likes first sentences.


Oh, one final ANNOUNCEMENT:

Whoever has the blue Karmen Ghia with license plate ADD 420…..that’s mine. I’d like it back, please.

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