Th' Soulfinger Diaries: D'Angelico's or something, East Hampton CT, 1.28.06

Cool little place tonight. Actually, it was sort of claustrophobic. Actually, it was a horrible, nightmarish little crap hole with pretentions of classiness and six dollar shots. Listen to "Who's Makin' Love" from a different, cool gig. Dig that goddamn rhythm guit. over on the right side. And Levy goddamn Pontchartrain's sax solo over on dem left side. He gets going all twelve tone. And check out what Ace gets back (for some reason I call him "Jimmy") when he heckles me. And my lyrical ad-libbing at 4:00 is really very tasteful indeed. Byronesque, one might almost say.

Actually, I take it back. Putfile has unceremoniously dumped this recording because of its salacious and seditious nature. That's amazing that they actually get around to going through shit to make sure it's all nice and american. So here's a nice, edited, family-friendly version that supports the moral values we all stand for. I suppose there's plenty of implied pornography in the sax and guitar and in my whiskey-soaked vocal tone. I guess that's the sort of climate this stuff came out of anyway. It all had to be implied. I sound pretty good on this here. All busted up. All roadrashed.

Hey, Putfile- get the the fucking broomstick outta your ass. It's shitty violence and depravity and objectification and crummy commercials that fuck kids up. Not glorious, polysyllabic extemporations on sweet parking lot love. Man. God damn.


Science Fiction Double Feature

Yay! State Of Th' Union and American Idol are both on tonite! A tragicomic double feature!! ALL of my sensibilities offended in one sitting! How American! One-Stop-Despair-Shopping. A veritable McMisery drive-thru. I'll have the Crazy Meal, thanks. Easy ice.

George Orwell's got NOTHIN' on this shit.

"Health Savings Accounts"- HA HA HA HA HA!

"Clear Skies Initiative"- HA HA HA HA HA!!

"Energy Policy"-- HA HA HA HA HA HAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!!!!

"No Child Left Behind"- HA HA HAH AHAHA AH HA HA!!!

Health Savings Accounts!!!!!!!!!!!! THAT IS FUCKING BRILLIANT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!


i know this is going to put me on some fucking list where they listen to my fascinating phone calls, but I gotta say for th' record if I ever ran into W in some alley I would kick the shit out of that lying little used car salesman. What a fuckin' asshole. I know we go on about this and that complex matter of foreign or domestic policy, but what it really comes down to is what fuckin' assholes these guys are. And just how sorely they need their fucking asses kicked.

Fuckers wouldn't last a minute in the real world. That fucking press dude? Oh, my god. Guy couldn't take a bitch slap from a six year old. I promise you this. Whingeing, creepy, doughy, fucked up bunch of pussies. All of them. I wouldn't want 'em on my side in ANY sort of altercation. Lying, colluding, arrogant, fucked up, cocksucking pasty assholes, to a man. To a "man".

And I hate to break it to th' encounter group but that's still the measure of a man, my friends. You don't have to win, but man, you gotta stand there and put 'em the fuck up. God damn it. You and I do it every day. Every polesmoking day.

You know I'm fucking right.


Th' Soulfinger Diaries: The Lighthouse, New London, CT, 1.27.06

Great show aside from being a goddamn hour late. Jesus Christ. Dial it in, man. Late night. Hard, late night. And too much coffee there at the end for th' commute. Where's the fuckin' blow, man? I'm gonna be singing this funk shit I'm gonna have to connect with some booger sugar, man.

Here we introduce the vocal stylings of Jackie Halliday. This one goes out to Cawndawg.

Hey, Harridans, it's getting to be that time.

I wish I had a tape of "Land of 1000 Dances". That's sounding boss.

Th' Soulfinger Diaries: The Whiskey Pub, Manchester CT, 1.21.06

Raise a glass, daddy-o. No fights, no O.D.'s, no accidents. Although I did borrow Levy Pontchartrain's Subaru for a ciggie run and forgot to turn the lights back on on the return trip, driving right by a parked patrol car. Thank god for donuts 'n' coffee. I passed unseen. Maybe I was invisible.

Great show. Good crowd. Thank you St. Ruffin. The usual post-show shaking-off of Ace McClintock proceeded with unusual expediency and I made it home by the conservative hour of 4 AM.