It's good to have goals
It just dawned on me that I'll be a real pain in the ass to the younger generations of my family, if only for the fact that one day, who knows how soon, I'll be a doddering, drunken great-great auntie in the corner, boobs jostled by my knees as I walk, telling everyone who hasn't already bolted in terror how I handed Frank Zappa my underpants when I was 19.
Katy Barzedor proclaimed this to be so at 4:23 AM
8 of you felt the overwhelming need to say somethin':
Bucky, your post, combined with Emily's comment has me cracking up over here. AND Emily is totally right. ;)
So agree with Emily.
Though, really, those are my favorite sort of relatives.
did you really hand him your panties or throw them at him?
That's exactly the kind of great Aunt I want to be...
I heard Nilbo was over here in a Speedo and tassles (tassels? oh, well, perhaps when they're involved, spelling isn't the most important thing). I haven't seen him like that since I had my brain MRI when he and William were pudding rasslin. (Drugs.)
Hot buttered anus? I'm going shopping now for a medal to give to Squirl, for being your sister the longest.
It is good to have goals.
I get a medal for being a sister the longest. YAY! Thanks, Susie. :)
Bucky, something tells me that you will continue to delight every generation. That little kid part of you is here to stay.
and of course i want to know what zappa did with said panties.
Effie - I handed them to him while he was onstage, and he said "Thank you."
Opera Gal - the explanation lies in the cut "Panty Rap" from the album "Tinseltown Rebellion":
FZ: "Hello there, welcome to the show. No, we are not going
to play 'Cheepnis'- that's right-but we are collecting underpants,
and we are collecting brassieres, we are collecting small articles
of feminine underclothing. We are making a quilt... really-trust me.
So here's the deal, if you're a girl and you're wearing a dress,
whip'em off, that's it, see? No problem. Even with a pin... what
does it say? 'Nobody's perfect.' I guess so... What we got here?
Oh. Now let's see what's on the inside. Uh huh, trainer coos.
Okay. S'more s'more ... Underpants, brassieres, just send 'em up,
no problem. Oh, you'll warm up to it. If you're wearing pants and
you have bikinis on underneath your pants, rip the edges and
pull 'em out; if you're wearing those big old ugly cotton jobs go to
the toilet and take 'em off, okay? So far, ladies and gentlemen,
the response from this particular community has not been especially
gratifying. Perhaps you're a little bit too intellectual here. Here's
something ... tasteful, very tasteful... You'll get into it. Oh, some
more-look-it's almost like going to a, well, never mind. Heh, heh, heh.
I just want to remind you that you are in direct competition with Chicago,
which so far has produced the highest yield of female underclothes
of any place in the United States. Oh, here's one, thank you very much.
Chicago, if you'll recall, was the town in which we received the very
famous Voodoo Butter Underpants... heh heh ... the pants that nearly
broke Tommy Mars' neck. As soon as he took a whiff of those, his head
went back this far, and he was heard to mutter 'Jeezus.' So, we don't
care what kind of condition they're in. What've we got there? 'Twat
Book,'okay. Uh huh, very good-Zeets, whadduya think? He already
has that one ... no problem, though."
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