Trouble Waiting To Happen

I wanna thank Paul for the box 'o coolness I received the other week when I was sick, although it was more a birthday gift it did do wonders for my overall attitude for the rest of the long, hard ride, which was grumpy to say the least. On top of the hilarious Pink Lady album a few other notable items, including:

Two burns of Parliament-Funkadelic live at Howard University November 1st, 1978. We had discussed my reverence for the P-Funk at some point -- either that or it was just an impressive guess, but thank you for da funk! Mein mind has been emancipated! (posterior soon to follow)

A sweet collection of post cards, oddly random Brady Bunch autographed scanned glossies (Paul deals in Brady Bunch memorabilia on eBay, among other things) and a nifty Star Wars birthday card. ALL of it is nifty! It's swell, it's the bee's knees, it's the cat's ass... it makes me wanna start another postcard wall around the door frame again. Ah, college.

Another postcard (boobies!), a "Soul '69" antique button that I've worn to work a few times already, an original "Walrus Man" action figure from the first run of Star Wars toys in the 70's (boy that takes me back) and what appears to be a strangely fabulous generic-brand gladiator figure still in its card, with a busted up foot, which makes it even more hilarious. Don't worry, though. He shall be freed soon, and then heck will be unleashed. Hopefully while wearing that keen pleated skirt he comes with.

Paul got these Beatles pins at a flea market in Rhode Island, and believes they might be original 1964 items. Although they were in a big box for 50 cents each, and this was just five years ago. But I'm just stoked to have them, Beatles nut that I am. Even better, it's George and Ringo. John and Paul can be sooooo played out.

Some vintage issues of DownBeat, circa 1974 and 1980, a jazz mag that I think might actually be defunct these days (don't quote me on that). Both with Miles on the cover. Schweeeeet.

And ah, last but hardly least... er um, Paul denies his true motives for purchasing these great pair of Pogues "booty shorts" back when he attended their St. Patrick's Day concert at the Roseland Ballroom last month, although I'm sure it wasn't intended for Al to slip them on over his jeans and prance around my living room in them waving a box-cutter and a hammer and threatening to hold up the Shell station around the corner this past Tuesday night. And Al's quite the skinny dude, so it's unlikely you'll be seeing me squeeze my ginormous badunkadunk in these babies, although the surveillance camera image might wind up funnier than Al's if I followed through on the gas station stick-up. Joe doesn't want me to wear them anyway because all he can picture when he sees them is Shane's toothless old mug and it's a bit of a wood-killer (then again so is my butt in booty shorts). I absolutely love it, though. By the way, I think "Pogue Mahone" is Gaelic for "Kiss My Ass". See? That's sexay, ain't it?

Thank you again, my friend. You do realize that you have just laid down the challenge for your birthday this year, and I'll see your Pink Lady LP and raise you.... well, I guess that will keep you up at nights wondering. ;-)

In other news: Wow, I am still very, very sore.