I wanted to let you kids (whomever you may be and whomever is left) know that today is not just any old Sunday. No, kids, this is one of those "extraordinary" Sundays you may have heard spoken of in hushed tones. One of those "'dis shit don't happen every Sunday" kind of Sundays. Surely a super-special Sunday, to overuse some alliteration. Get to the point? Fine...Today is the first Sunday in about 16 years that M. Dung's Idiot Show will be heard on the air in San Fransisco by (at least) tens and tens of people. Luckily, since we live in the 21st century, you can catch this comeback effort via the magics of the interweb by logging on to KYOU radio and listening to the simulcast stream. Funtime starts at 6pm Pacific (that's 7pm for me and anyone else in the mountain time zone, 9pm eastern, 1am tomorrow in Minsk, but screw them commie bastards, right?). Give Dung a listen! He's been gracious enough to join us on our tiny podcast 3 times and has also been gracious enough to reverse his thinking re: returning to radio and make the world a brighter place WITH THE IDIOT SHOW A-TONIGHT! OWW!

Labels: celebrity interviews, radio stories, tales of triumph

Despite my inability to put together a consistent run of podcasts (or even blog posts) over the course of the last few months, I'd be more than remiss if I missed All Hallows Eve. Even though we did some wonderful ghost story shows the last couple of years, Something I've always wanted to do within this medium is a music-oriented show. Given that I've got hours and hours of what I consider to be "Halloweeny" tunes, I said "what the Hell." So here it is-the Son of Cheese Half Hour Power Hour Halloween Spooktacular! clicky to listen...

Labels: awesomecasts, mumbling about music, podcasts

So some time ago (like...June), the royal we got together and recorded a couple of podcasts. I know that I mentioned the last time I posted one of these oh-so-tardy things that the other one that's "in the can" was so bad, it may never see the light of day, a fate which has only befallen one other would-be episode to this point. Well, I went back to try and edit down this monstrosity of suck last night and, while I found no earthly way to make the content appreciably better, I did find that I was right: it sucks. Sounds like we're all on drugs or something. Anyhow, here. Take it. There's a genuinely spontaneous moment of funny about 3:20 in, but after that, I'd recommend earplugs. Don't say I didn't warn you. Right then, clicky to listen:

Labels: audio, awesomecasts, podcasts

Ask any parent worth a damn and I would wager that they would agree with me: one of the best parts about having a little baby rolling around the house is the sound of gleeful, infantile laughter. The wife and I are quite fortunate that Max is a happy baby and, as such, he doesn't skimp on the giggles when something tickles his fancy. We've had occasion to roll film, as it were, on a few of his "episodes" and, since I'm in a posty mood, am prepared to share a short clip with you kids...Being that we're so close to Halloween, our home is playing host to a handful of spirits which trickle in as they rise from the grave. Not the least of this spectral briagde is the ghost of Dumbo, a long dead Disney character. Max and ghost Dumbo enjoy the roughhousing, as you'll see when you press play on that embedded video right there:

You (the viewer) are instructed to pay no attention to the fat humanesque arm that appears to be attached to ghost Dumbo's back...These phantom classic cartoon characters are quite adept at possessing humans and willing them to do their bidding, up to and including placing bets at the dogtrack, running to the 7-11 for smokes and beer and, you guessed it, attacking little 7-month-old babies.

I Hear That Train A-Comin'...
So since Max crawled out of my wife to join us in the material world (late February, for those who like keeping track of such things), I've not been up to Denver to enjoy the fun and insanity of Freak Train. I do miss it more than a little bit, but just haven't found it feasible to go, what with all the other things going on...I do, though, plan to go up for this month's show on the 27th since the past two October Trains have seen the Spooky Singing Ghost return from the grave and a tradition like that, well, far be it from me to break it. Last year, I was fortunate enough to have had the assistance of guitar virtuoso "Scary" Terry Gonzalez. In an earlier entry, I mentioned that Terry was diagnosed with lung cancer in May. To update things, Terry's through Chemo and is thankfully doing better. despite the progress, I can't imagine asking him to accompany me to do a goofy little stage show which is so trivial by comparison to the challenges he's facing. As such, I've not decided exactly whether I'll be the spooky singing ghost (replete with specially mixed backing track) or the spooky standup ghost this year...Methinks, though, that a comedian the caliber of the Spooky Standup Ghost needs a seltzer bottle and an armoload of cream pies. Or jokes. Anyone itching to write jokes?

Anyhow...

I do have Freak Train-related Good news, though...Fresh off of his inaugural gig as a kids' birthday party magician, our old buddy Justin plans to make the trek up to Denver with me...Perhaps he'll bust out some big-time stage magic for us...I'll have my video camera at the ready just in case...

So How Many of You Fuckers Are on Facebook?..
Unlike MySpace , which I arbitrarily capped at 54 friends as an homage to the most perfect number in all the land, I'm not limiting Facebook acquaintances. See, I call them "acquaintances" because "friend" sounds so presumptive. After all, the majority don't write, they don't call...Anyways, this whole spiel means that, if you're reading this AND you have a Facebook account AND we're not ALREADY friends on Facebook, you should add me. Like I tell people on LInkedIn: My friends network has pie. Who doesn't love pie? You love pie. Hell, you love it carnally when nobody's watching. Admit it: you're a clandestine pie humper.

Wait, where was I?

Oh yeah, Facebook. Add me.

So that's enough for now. As always, thanks for stopping by. You kids have a great Tuesday now...

Labels: Baby max, Freak Train, lame stories, vaunted videoblogs

Sure, this will be another post about why I never post. I guess you write about what you know and all I know is that I never seem to have enough time to sit and write. Or read. Or several other things which I may or may not have done before Max came along. don't get me wrong, I'm not saying that my boy has ruined anything for me, quite the opposite, really. Having a rapidly growing little baby of my own design in the house has simply served to reorganize my priorities (which is just a nice way of saying "the baby takes up x-amount of time, outside of which there is precious little left over for anything non-baby related). Speaking of the baby, here are some recent pictures of him for you to peruse and ooh-and-aww at:


The boy is now currently pushing 8 months, but this photo was taken the day he turned 7 months. As you can see, Max simply cannot believe he is that old. This, in my opinion, is a good visual representation of what the originators of the interrobang had in mind.


Apparently overals and a red shirt can turn even the surliest of infants into little bundles of joy. This is not to say that Max is surly. Not all the time, at least and certainly not while wearing overalls (and a red shirt).


Not that I have any doubts, but this would be exhibit A if I ever had to prove paternity of the boy. Just for reference, exhibit B, C, D and, of course, E.


Here you see that, even when I'm talking to my buddy Andy about his fucked-up job situation, the boy will patiently hang with me. He's so good at sitting up on his own now...


Max has the (only slightly annoying) habit of completely ignoring whomever happens to be holding him while appearing to find everyone else in the room utterly fascinating. In fact, the rule is that if you want Max to smile at you, give him to someone else.


No, Max hasn't been rootin' around in poopy, he'd been eating (and obviously enjoying) the "garden vegetable" variety of mushed-up baby foods. Overall, Max is a real good eater. He's just kind of messy.


Well hello. How are you? I'm just killing time and chilling on the floor. Care to join me?


this is one of those "best pictures ever." I think I have three so far. All of the "best of" collection will be hung on to and then blown up and displayed proudly when he brings home his first date or something.

So there you are. Some pictures of the kid. Let me check to see if there's anything I need to follow up on and update from the last time I actually posted...

Baseball: It's Over Until Next Year For Me...
So the Cubs (the 28 and older MSBL team which I was proud to have played on this past season) finished with only the one win, an anomolous 1-run victory against the Twins early in the season. Due to some strange circumstances, the worst team in the league (us, in case you weren't paying attention earlier) made the playoffs by default. We ended up facing those same Twins in said playoff game. This time, though, the one-run victory went their way. Overall, I'm extremely pleased with the way the season went for me. I batted right around .350 for the season, was hit by just about every pitcher in the league and logged a significant amount of time playing both catcher and first base...Not at all bad for a fat guy who hadn't played real baseball since he was 13. I'm looking forward to next year...

All-Hallow's Eve Is Coming...
In fact, tonight was the night of the Farnes' big annual Halloween party which we traditionally attend. We had every intention of doing so this year, debuting Max as a little bee, but Max had other ideas. Contrary to form for the last few days, Max went down for a marathon nap right around 6:30 that ended up lasting almost 3 hours, after which he had to be changed and fed and generally wrangled. This process placed us at a point on the clock where it was no longer feasible to attend the party. Perhaps you've heard the term "point of diminishing returns?" We would've had to get everyone dressed and loaded in the car and drive for 40 minutes and would've had maybe an hour before the boy got fussy and crabby again and put to bed.

Since the actual Halloween falls on a weekday this year, each department at the agency I work at drew decades (except for accounting, who drew "the future") and are expected to dress up in a manner which reflects whichever chunk of time was drawn. While the drawing was going on, I was fortunate enough to do the honors for the art department. I instantly thought about trying to fake something which would make it look like I drew the 1950s, but was on the spot and couldn't muster up any trickery. Instead, I played it straight and, wonder of wonders, drew the 1950s anyway. I'm trying to think, though...I may be one of only 2 who will take it seriously and actually dress completely in 50s garb in my department. It's all good though, as the kids say, because I picked up some rockin' new threads from Daddy O's for the occasion, including two sweet hats from Village Hat Shop which I will be able to wear outside of Halloween. There's also going to be a potluck lunch (which I will not participate in due to my odd neuroses of people in costumes making me nauseous) and decade-specific karaoke which I really should volunteer to run. It's a little bit of extra effort, but I'm very well equipped to do a good job with it as opposed to one of the VPs who "has a machine." I guess I'll volunteer for such things on Monday.

When It's All Said and Done, it IS Just a Game...
I've mentioned before that, in my oh-so-copious spare time, I officiate high school and middle school football and wrestling. It sure does seem that the mere act of wearing a striped shirt seems to bring out the worst in people. One constant that I've figured out without much effort to this point is that the fans, in general, have a very shaky understanding of the rules AT BEST. This problem can lead to problems, the likes of which I've learned to laugh off. I've definitely heard or been called just about everything so far, usually by misguided, overly-emotional fans (almost always of the losing team...Go figure). This past Friday night, however, these "fans" at the game I was working got so worked up that the crew I was part of needed a police escort to get safely off school grounds. if nothing else, it'll make for a fun story to recount, especially to future new officials making their first trip to this particular school...

Awesomecasts...Yeah...Haven't Forgot...
I still have a couple of podcasts in the can and need to find time to produce and post them. That's all I have to say about that...And, now that I think about it, I'm pretty much done typing this wee post. As always, thanks for stopping by...You kids have a fine couple of months now...

Labels: Baby max, indignities, lame stories, Phrickin' Photoblogs, sports

So hey, here's somethin'...A podcast episode that's roughly 2 month old AND out of sequence. Ok, the first part will be totally noticeable, especially since I mention a date in the first couple of minutes...The whole "out of sequence" thing, though, not noticeable at all. Especially since I may never post the pile of crap that's in-sequence. Anyway, ignoring all of that and ignoring especially my tardiness (emphasis on "tard") with this, here it comes - clicky to listen...

Labels: audio, awesomecasts, collin crap, get outta town, podcasts

Yeah. So. Um. It's been quite a while since I showed any sort of initiative and posted on this blog. Look, it's not for lack of wanting to...It's simply for lack of time. Indeed, when you have a little baby at home, your former spare time gets reallocated pretty damn quick. Anyhow, things have been going on since I last posted (which was back in June, in case you're keeping track and, hey, why wouldn't you be? You're here, after all) so I shall try and fill you in on the things now...

Max Is Growing Like Crazy...
As children are wont to do, Max continues to eat, poop and grow. Saturday will mark the start of his 5th month outside his mother's belly. We sure have a lot of babyproofing to do to our house as the little boy is getting very close to being mobile. Oh sure, as it stands his only form of locomotion can best be described as "rolling and wiggling," but that shall give way to crawling and walking before I know it. As a bonus, here's a handful of recent-ish pictures featuring our little Max.
click 'em, they get a little bit bigger

This weekend, Max is going to meet one of his great-grandmothers for the first time, though she's not aware of it yet. Everybody loves surprises, right?

Baseball: Still Hard. Getting Hit by a Baseball: Not Hard at All...
So yeah, I mentioned that I'm playing in a 28 and older baseball league. Things have gotten better for me as far as playing time since that writing (I'm not only playing more, but I'm playing more at first base which is much nicer than right field). We've still won only the one game and we're getting our collective asses handed to us score-wise every time out, but it's still fun. And I get exercise. Additionally, I have to imagine (not that I've done any research to back up this claim) that I'm leading the league in HBP (hit by pitch). I've been hit at least once in each of the last 4 games and was plunked a couple of times earlier in the season. I'm not going to charge the mound over it, but I do have to wonder: why me so much? One of the pitchers who hit me in the last game told me I get hit because I crowd the plate. Fair enough, but my sneaking suspicion is that I'm getting hit because I'm fat...Too large and inviting of a target to resist...

Softball: Not Hard at All, Especially After The Big Move...
Last season, the co-ed softball team that the wife and I play on went undefeated for the first time ever and won the championship. Because of this, we kind of assumed that we'd just continue our winning ways this season, since we were still playing silver co-ed, like last year...

Or so I thought...

Apparently, the Park and Rec folks have started separating each level (gold, silver and bronze) into different "upper" and "lower" divisions. Apparently, while we were ripping through all those other teams like a hot knife through butter last season, we were playing "lower" silver. We started this season in "upper" silver and lost our first 3 games. Granted, we only lost 2 of the games by 1 run, but following our uncharacteristically poor opening, them genius Park and Rec folks moved us back to "lower" silver. Since the move, we're beating teams handily without having to try which, frankly, just isn't any fun and isn't fair to the teams who could and should contend in that division. I would've much rather stayed in the upper division, had a poor season, used the experience to get better and come back strong next year. Instead, we get sent back down to beat on patsies and foster bad playing and hitting habits because the games aren't close. Feh...

Awesomecasts Are On The Way...No, Seriously...
I heard tell through Collin that my sister was all pissed at me for not having posted any new podcast episodes since the middle of June...Apparently, her question was something like "why do we bother to record them if he (I) won't post them?" The answer is simple, really...BECAUSE, FOOL!

Actually, it's because it takes a couple of hours to properly produce a half-hour podcast episode once the recording is in the can. It's true, I do have about 4 episodes in the can just waiting for me to sit and get them all dolled up...The problem is that I simply haven't had the time to do such things. I do hope that I can rectify the situation soon, though, so be on the lookout for more new episodes of the ol' awesomecast...In fact, keep watch in shifts. You know, one person keeps an eye peeled while the others sleep...Just like in Stand By Me or Disorganized Crime. Anyway, yeah...Podcasts coming soon...

I'd Forgotten Just How Fun Singing Karaoke in a Bar Could be...
So the Sharks had a game last night against the Ice Hawks which just so happened to be Don's last game playing with us. He's...What? Who's Don you ask? Don is one of the guys from the hockey team I play on. Yeah, he's originally from somewhere on the East Coast. Uh huh, yeah. He's the loud one. Right, now that we have THAT established, Don is leaving to take a job in Alabama. As such, after the game, a handful of us followed Don over to the Hatchcover for beer and wings and things. I have to preface things by saying that, some years ago, I used to go to the "down the Hatch lounge," the bar above the Hatchcover, on a regular basis for karaoke. At this time (and we're talking 10-plus years ago), the lounge was kind of a cozy, classy place above a medium to high end restaurant. Fast-forward to 2008, though, and the whole place has the vibe of a low class pool hall and dive bar. Oh sure, the same couches and stuff are in the upstairs as 10 years ago, but they look old and worn. Hell, I didn't even recognize the place and I used to be a regular there...Anyhow, it just so happened that it was karaoke night and, being that I'm never easily embarrassed, I sang a few. I haven't actually sung karaoke anywhere but in my own home for about 4 or 5 years. This was mostly due to my loathing of cigarette smoke, loud and obnoxious karaoke hosts and people in general. I built a smokin' sound system based around some of the equipment I already had from years of mobile DJ work and have amassed a decent karaoke library...Whatever, yeah. I'm a hermit. Last night, though, I got to put all that aside and sing in a bar which, since the anti-smoking laws passed, is a lot more enjoyable than it used to be for me. I coudn't have predicted the reaction, though, when I sang the Digital Underground classic "the Humpty Dance." Those fuckin' people in that dive bar went totally nuts. One lady even begged me to stick around and sing some more, something people have never done to me. Frankly, though, despite how fun it was and how sincerely I appreciated the flattery, I missed my wife and my boy so I chose to head on home...

I think that's about it for now...As always, thanks for stopping by, kids...You all have a fine month/year/decade now...

Labels: Baby max, lame stories, Phrickin' Photoblogs, sports