The Temple Bar ~ Oh God we need a drink of cooool cooool rain!!! UYFA! :eyebrow:

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snowbunny00774 said:
people at work shared this week about how gravol and I nyquil worked wonders for them in the sleep department ..it might help, VP :yikes:
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:hmm:

My mom has been trying to get me to take sleeping pills. I've resisted so far. Gravol might be a thought, though.
 
you know what would be furbulous...if this whole morocco thing turned into some kind of sessions album like that going to china thing did for the chieftans in the early 80s....that disc still makes me shiver/random and I apologize for tainting the bar with such ramblings.
 
Reggie Thee Dog said:


Yeah, that's OK Beav, NSW too good for us...he went solo and left us to pick up the pieces of Douche Monkey...:angry:

F' NSW and his All Star Band!!! :madwife:
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Yeah, well let's see how he feels after this review:

DOUCHE MONKEY ROCKS GRAND ISLAND
NSW All Stars / Cock Bagel fail to show.

By Susan Neilander
GRAND ISLAND, NEBRASKA - Call them what you will, there is no denying that a Douche Monkey show is unlike any other. Even without bassist NSW, Douche Monkey enthralled, confused and revulsed a crowd of 72 for 2 hours on Monday night. Dollar Natty Lite Nite at Dave's Bar was the backdrop for what Grand Island, and the entire Aurora metro area, can use a tale to tell the grandkids about.

At 8:00 pm, owner proprierator Dave came to the stage and announced, "Ladies and Gentleman, NSW and the Cock Bagel All Stars." And then....nothing. For one hour the audience stared at an empty stage and drink their $1 natty lites.

At 9:00pm Dave returned and simply said, "Ladies and Gentleman Douche Monkey." A smattering of applause circulated the room, but more attention was focused on the TV which was showing highlights of the Reds / Twins game. At 9:02 guitarist UberBeaver announced "METAL UPYOUR FUCKING ASS" and Grand Island will never be the same.

From what this reporter can tell, the Douche Monkeys played one song for about an hour and fifty five minutes. Most of the lyrics involved the no-show opening act doing lewd acts to himself and then being quiet afterwards. And then repeating both processes ad infinitum. The crowd began a sing a long 5 minutes in as the lyric is rather catchy.

Somewhere around the 22 minute mark, recorder player PhilK walked off stage, and then returned with an American Indian head dress and announced, "I am the recorder king, I can play anything..." when asked to play "Happy Birthday" for a young woman in the audience, Philk declined and said he didn't know that one. He then admonished the birthday girl to "ride the snake...ride the snake." At this point drummer Reggie the Dogg stopped playing and offered the use of his snake. It was then that this reporter noted that the bass line was being played by a lanky fella with purple hair on a keyboard. I noticed only because for a few seconds the keyboardist, named only as "Reggie's Friend" stood up. Then sat back down and returned to the keyboard playing. He did this several times throughout the evening, once for an extended period during a wet T shirt conest.

Mr. Beaver and Mr. Dog and Mr. Friend all stopped playing at one point as Philk went on a lengthy diatribe on the state of the world and he's tired of [the] lies. "It's all lies. All the time. Everywhere I turn, Lies. Lies. Lies. Lies. Lies. ENOUGH LIES! I can't take [the] lies anymore. I'm losing my mind. Everytime I turn on the PC - LIES!" (Mr. Philks Michigan accent makes the word sound more like "lease", but it was clear what he meant.) Mr. Beaver and Mr. Dog exchanged worried glances (No one looked at Mr. Friend, though one time, during some transcendant rant about [David] Beckham, Mr. Philk put his arm around Mr. Friend, then implored Jesus and jumped off stage. He came back 10 minutes later in a towel, weeping.) Mr. Beaver then began to play an ambient type of guitar line, and Mr. Dogg and Mr. Friend joined in. Mr. Philk's rants ("Let's plan a murder or start a religion. Love, death, travel, revolt, chaos. I love fame, I *do* love fame! I'm a fake hero. They don't want me - they want my *death*! I'm the poet and you're my muse. Have you ever eaten human flesh? What's wrong with being a large mammal?") ceased and he said, "Father. Yes son.....I want to BOWL WITH YOU!....Mother, yes son....I want to - " at this point Mr. Beaver yelled out, "Whoa - Phil," and Philk stopped, opened his eyes and said, "Uh...sorry, my bad....who wants some recorder UP THEIR FUCKING ASS?" A young Englishman in the front row stood up on his table and screamed, "THIS IS A SONG FOR ME MUM!" Mr. Beaver stopped playing at this point and said, "Tre....this is a song about your fucking mother. Come on." "Yes, about me mum. That's what I said."

At this point Mr. Friend began staring at this reporter. A bit uncomfortably.

The set ended abrubtly as apparently Mr. NSW had been instructed a sufficient amount of times on what he should be doing, and the volume he should employ whilst doing it. The crowd looked awkwardly at the stage to which Mr. Beaver said, "What? You want a fucking encore? Fine. This one is called, 'This is How Long It's Gonna Take Me (To Do You Right)." 9 seconds after that the band walked offstage.
 
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