So what the hell am I eating on the phone? People actually called up just to play this contrived game, Gawd I love you people, you're the only reason I live. My bud Zap guessed soda crackers, adding that it sounds like I have sand in my mouth. Javier said "apple," which isn't a very good guess because there was no squish-squish sound. Betty guessed "peexa," before changing that to "pizza." Reis thinks it was a falafel or something Middle Eastern. Tony went the Mr. Ed route, going with peanut butter. And poor Magda was getting flustered: "Okay, I know it's food. Or maybe it could be gauze, or your mouth is numb from a visit to the dentist." Of course it's food. What, you think I eat shit? Well, whatever. What I was eating was a bagel. Just that simple. Good and chewy. Gawd, I love you people.
Tomorrow (Friday) the Talkhouse will fill with Jodi and the Rodeo, joined by special guests, plus Ade Peever and Crash Basket. Something on this bill for everyone.
Halo holds forth Sunday at Chili Pepper. Make sure you get your copy of Cult of the Birdman, the band's killer new CD.
Tonight (Thursday) the blues club Cheers, way north in Lauderdale, begins (at 7:30 p.m.) registration for the sixth annual Cheers Fishing Tournament to benefit the Broward County Artificial Reef Foundation. The tournament itself takes place Sunday. Call 771-6337.
Raw B Jae funks up -- wait a minute. I'm sick and real tired of seeing "funked up" every time I see Raw B Jae's name. Raw B Jae kicks ass tomorrow (Friday) at Squeeze.
A chance to see Black Janet occurs tomorrow (Friday) at Reunion Room.
Coma will open for Live at the Edge on Saturday.
Butthorn of the week and pet corner: On vacay, I saw muchas vacas, many muchas vacas, and I realized in my dark heart of hearts that I might be eating pieces of these very animals some day. For the most part, they seemed to be happy cows, eating their grass and exemplifying the herd mentality: When one cow goes to the water hole, they all do. When one cow lies down, they all do. But those were American cows. It's the Mexican cows that this butthorn is about. Jennifer Winston, fresh from a conference in Washington, D.C., reports that Mex cows (a million of them) are being branded with the letter M -- on the face. Branded. Face. ("Good thing the Department of Immigration doesn't do that to humans," Winston notes.) What they (I'll tell you who in a sec) do, see, is they immobilize the cow's head with steel pincers clasped to the nostrils of each animal. Females get an M brand on one side of the face and, as a bonus, a spade symbol is branded into the other side. The lucky ladies also get their ovaries hacked out sans anesthesia. The boys get their horns removed, also without painkillers, something akin to a human having his fingernails ripped out. As a special bonus, the cattle are then forced into a vat of insecticide. If you care, write to Mike Espy, Secretary U.S. Dept. of Agriculture, Room 200-A, 12th and Jefferson Drive SW, Washington, D.C. 20250 or call 202-720-3631 or fax 202-720-2166. Also, Gillette continues its ruthless animal torture experiments. You can contact these butthorns at Gillette, Prudential Tower, Boston, MA 02199, attention CEO Alfred Zein. Better yet, call Gillette at 800-872-7202. Call early and often. It'll kill them.