Went to go see Eddie Izzard tonight at the State Theatre in downtown Minneapolis. He was hilarious, absolutely killed. He pretty much covered the span of human civilization in his own scatalogical way.

If you have the chance, I highly recommend seeing him perform.

When I was a young man I carried my pack
And I lived the free life of a rover
From the Murrays green basin to the dusty outback
I waltzed my Matilda all over
Then in nineteen fifteen my country said Son
It's time to stop rambling 'cause there's work to be done
So they gave me a tin hat and they gave me a gun
And they sent me away to the war
And the band played Waltzing Matilda
As we sailed away from the quay
And amidst all the tears and the shouts and the cheers
We sailed off to Gallipoli

How well I remember that terrible day
How the blood stained the sand and the water
And how in that town that they called Suvla Bay
We were butchered like lambs at the slaughter
Johnny Turk he was ready, he primed himself well
He chased us with bullets, he rained us with shells
And in five minutes flat he'd blown us all to hell
Nearly blew us right back to Australia
But the band played Waltzing Matilda
As we stopped to bury our slain
We buried ours and the Turks buried theirs
Then we started all over again

Now those that were left, well we tried to survive
In a mad world of blood, death and fire
And for ten weary weeks I kept myself alive
But around me the corpses piled higher
Then a big Turkish shell knocked me arse over tit
And when I woke up in my hospital bed
And saw what it had done, I wished I was dead
Never knew there were worse things than dying
For no more I'll go waltzing Matilda
All around the green bush far and near
For to hump tent and pegs, a man needs two legs
No more waltzing Matilda for me

So they collected the cripples, the wounded, the maimed
And they shipped us back home to Australia
The armless, the legless, the blind, the insane
Those proud wounded heroes of Suvla
And as our ship pulled into Circular Quay
I looked at the place where my legs used to be
And thank Christ there was nobody waiting for me
To grieve and to mourn and to pity
And the band played Waltzing Matilda
As they carried us down the gangway
But nobody cheered, they just stood and stared
Then turned all their faces away

And now every April I sit on my porch
And I watch the parade pass before me
And I watch my old comrades, how proudly they march
Reliving old dreams of past glory
And the old men march slowly, all bent, stiff and sore
The forgotten heroes from a forgotten war
And the young people ask, "What are they marching for?"
And I ask myself the same question
And the band plays Waltzing Matilda
And the old men answer to the call
But year after year their numbers get fewer
Some day no one will march there at all

Waltzing Matilda, Waltzing Matilda
Who'll come a waltzing Matilda with me
And their ghosts may be heard as you pass the Billabong
Who'll come-a-waltzing Matilda with me?

I'm writing on behalf of the Adopt a Beer Foundation.

Every year, millions of beers are left on store shelfs, their destiny unfulfilled. Only you can make a difference. Please, adopt a beer today. Giving just one beer a home can make the difference in a young six-pack's life. Or adopt an entire case, and really make a difference. Beers can't speak for themselves, so it is important that you speak for them.

So won't you start today? Go to your local store and adopt a beer, keep it cold, then give it a good, loving home in your belly.

It's what Jesus would do...if he were a lush...which he probably was...but he was also probably a really fun drunk. That and those Franciscan Monks, they could friggin' party.

This message was paid for by MONKS GONE WILD!!! Check out the wild, crazy world of MONKS GONE WILD. These monks are drunk off their asses and ready to show it all. Choose from these exciting titles:

Spring break monk sluts

Marti Gras Monks

Naughty Teen Monks

Hey, look unda my robe...I'm a monk!

Order yours today!

Just send 5,000 euros to: Monks Gone Wild, PO Box 666, Hollywood, CA, and whatever the hell else you want to fill in there.  

I just ordered my new bass! I should be able to pick it up next week. It's a G&L, lefty (which is why I needed to order it). I compared the GL with a Fender Jazz bass, and it was no comparison. For a similar price, the G&L was way better quality with these fat humbucking pickups and 6-bolt neck. Fuckin' sweet!! I've wanted this bass for a long time. And that's how I spent my rebate check!

I can't wait to use it on the new songs I'm currently recording.

I tried to insert an image in this blog but for some reason when I submitted the blog it wouldn't show up. wtf. Anyway, I posted a picture of it on my profile if you're curious.

Cheers! LS

It's a celebration, bitches! Well, a milestone at least. I've made it to 200 friends. We're all extremely close. We call each other on the weekends. Go out for chinese buffet on Fridays.

But seriously, it's been pretty cool connecting with some of the people on this site, something which I never really planned on doing. When I joined, Ijust figured I'd just post my few songs and that would be that. I was wrong. Now I'm looking forward to posting new songs in a few weeks and writing a new series of blogs about ridiculous stuff.

Cheers! LS  

So, my wife and I were at the supermarket to buy some tulips for her mom. While she's picking out the flowers, I'm checking out some of the hokey little gifts on display. One of them was this 5"x5" plaque that read:

What happens at grandma's, stays at grandma's.

WTF? What could possibly be happening at grandma's house that would need to stay there? I mean, how truly bizarre. In fact, I don't want to know what's happening at grandma's, particularly if it has to stay there. Is she dealing meth? Will her granddaughter wind up sleeping with the fishes if she tells anyone grandma's little secret?

Grandma Soprano.

So Jesus never showed up this weekend in Watertown, SD. That's ok though. I got really drunk with my wife's cousins and aunts. Her cousin Molly, who lives in Minneapolis, is a blast to hang with. We often hang out with her. Anyway, one of her cousins had a suite at the motel Ramkota (I think it's Ramada and Dakota joined together. It's fun if you say it in a voice like Johnny Cash.) So we hung out there and did vodka shots and drank beers. There was a lot of booze. Most of us stayed up until 4am. Eventually we went out into the parking lot to smoke in her aunt's car, because there was no smoking in the hotel. Keep in mind it's like 30 degrees out and I'm wearing these UofM gym shorts. All I remember is making up country/western songs about model A cars, jars of beer, rocket ships, and toddlers. Something along the lines of *I'm driving my model A car drinking jars of beer, drinking jars of beer, driving my model A car on a rocketship driven by a toddler* And other variations. It's from a skit I saw on a recent Saturday Night Live.

I've been hurting all day today. Suffering from ALS, Alcohol Related Slowness. Anyway, I had a good time. Her aunts and cousins are fun to party with. I don't know what I was pissing and moaning about. Maybe I'm turning emo! XD  Ahhhhh.

What if instead of a zombie outbreak there was an emo outbreak and everyone turned into emos? The streets would run red and black with blood and mascera. Not too big of a threat, because the emo zombies would all be occupied cutting themselves and shopping for tight pants.

I got a model A car....powered by jars of beer...being driven by a toddler...who rides rocketships.

I need to go back to sleep. My brain hurts.

Cheers!

and taken to Watertown, South Dakota. There's nothing to do there and I'm gonna have to meet and talk to 5,000 of my wife's fuckin' relatives that I don't want to meet or talk to. Help!!!! This is the kind of place that has a billboard as you enter town that says, "Jesus is coming. Are you prepared?"

And I'm like, "Well he didn't even friggin' call. WTF. Now I gotta make up the guest room, make sure we have enough wine and bread. Goddammit, Jesus. Would it kill you to send an email? Send a txt msg?"

The only good thing is that there's a small contingent of her relatives who like to drink and are actually fun to hang with, so I usually just hang out with them.

I’m writing this while recovering in a local hospital. I was out for a couple of days, but now that I’m awake, I remember what happened. I got off the roof and barely got away from the school before the Black Hawk helicopters destroyed it. As I ran, ground troops shot at me, thinking I was a zombie. I crouched behind a tree and quickly fashioned a flag by tearing out the liner of my jacket and duct taping it to a long branch. I waved the flag and stepped out from behind the tree…the fuckers still shot me. In the leg, in my shoulder. What dumb ass possibly thinks that zombies are smart enough to make flags and wave them around? Luckily one of the soldiers was smart enough to realize this and yelled at the others to cease fire. As I lay on the ground, bleeding, I thought of how stupid it was…how I had battled zombies, survived for this long, only to be blown away by these idiots. Medics came and patched me up…at least well enough to air lift me to a nearby hospital. Thing about the military is…for as good as they are at killing people, they are also pretty damn good at treating totally fucked up wounds and saving lives. I mean, it is their specialty.  Now, as I search the news sites and hear from the hospital staff, apparently old George W. is in deep shit. Apparently he authorized the military to go ape shit on the residential neighborhoods, blowing shit up, etc…even though the zombies were not as a big a threat as they first were thought to be. Funny thing…there are a lot of hunters in Minnesota….I mean like everyone owns a gun and actually knows how to use it. The local neighborhoods had banded together and actually had done a pretty good job at establishing order and shooting the zombies without the army’s help. Regardless, it’s documented that Bush ordered the army to test this new heat weapon on the zombies…like he saw it as this once in a lifetime opportunity to test an experimental weapon on human subjects that no one would give a shit about. I guess he was wrong. People are now pissed that the army destroyed like half the suburbs west of Minneapolis. From what I understand, everyone in the country is completely shocked and congress is pushing forward with impeachment hearings. It’s funny how things work out. I did learn, however, that my wife and her mom died…but not from zombies…from gangs of “normal” humans looting the Target they were shopping at. My father in law died in a huge car wreck that occurred as a result of people panicking from zombie hysteria. So, I am all alone now. I’m not sure where to go from here. I could move back to California, but frankly there’s not much for me there either. I might instead move to Houston, TX. I have a friend there. I emailed her. She needs a place to live, and I need to start my life over. So, we might share an apartment or something. We are just friends, but right now that sounds pretty good to me. Right now all I really need… is a friend.

Cheers, LS

I left the storage room late in the afternoon. Tearing down the barricade, I slowly peeked out the door, crowbar handy. I didn’t hear anything roaming around the house, but I still didn’t know what to expect. No zombies had broken in…the rear doors were intact, the front door and windows. I kept low to the ground to keep out of view, but as soon as the sun set, I left the house. There’s a creek in our backyard, so I opted to follow that instead of waltzing down the street. I probably would have taken the Highlander, but my wife took it to go shopping…my wife…all I can do is hope she is alive…somehow…I just doubt it.  It’s nearly morning, and I’ve climbed up on a high school rooftop for safety. I discovered some unsecured wireless line. Must be from one of the nearby houses. Regardless, this very well may be my last chance to give an account of what has happened here.  The night was hell. I snuck along the creek as quietly as possible. I was hoping I could follow the creek north and west to get to the country and outside the area affected by the chemical cloud. After a few hours or so, I started to think that I was going to make it, that maybe the chemical zombies only lived so long…maybe they all died. An explosion in the distance. Why is the military blowing stuff up still? I heard branches break and the sound of clumsy footsteps. I could see several zombies lumbering towards me. I ran away, still keeping to the creek. I thought I would out run them when even more appeared ahead of me. I readied my Louisville Slugger as I peeled off to the right and away from the creek. They followed. And soon even more surrounded me. It was like they came out of nowhere. I ran towards an office complex and that’s when I tripped…over a corpse. It was…I can’t think of a word that describes how I felt, because as I looked up and around, I noticed even more corpses littered the ground. And not whole corpses. I’m talking body parts torn and shredded, torsos with the entrails pulled out and strewn about. I couldn’t even think enough to get up. All I could think about was blood, flesh, death. Footsteps around me. I gripped my bat, stood up, and swung at the closest zombie. A direct hit on the forehead and the zombie buckled, fell. I run for the office lobby entrance, clocking zombies in the head as I bolt for the lobby doors. I make it in time to shut the doors behind me and lock them. I dashed to the stairwell and ran up to the third floor. I ran down a hall, down another stairway, and out the back of the building. There were no zombies, so I snuck away, across a back parking lot and into a park. I eventually found this high school. I made it to the roof of the high school from where I could see Blackhawk helicopters in the distance, could see explosions, cannon fire. The roof is the safest place for now, but I don’t know where to go from here. The helicopters are getting closer. They just blew up a building not too far from here. I’m going to have to end this message. I need to move. I think they are going to…going to blow up this school…I can see one of them in plain view. I’ve got to go now…the ground is shaking from the explosions...

The explosions started a few hours ago. First distant, but they have been getting closer by the hour. As I suspected, the army is bombing the shit out of the whole area in order to destroy the chemically induced zombies. I found an old backpack. I’ve gathered the most portable food items I could find…pouches of tuna, some cereal, and some water and a few other things. I have my weapons…I’m going to carry the baseball bat as a primary weapon, have the short crowbar holstered in my belt, and I have the knives handy too. I’m going to have to leave this safe room. Need to go or risk being blown up. I’m going to bring the laptop with me. I hope I can keep posting these…I hope I survive.