And there’s a wino down the road…
June 24, 2011
…and we’re back!
Miraculous, I know. Everyone is telling me that, anyone getting hit by a virus these days is down for weeks. So how did I recover in just a few days? I will share my secrets.
1. Get everyone to leave you alone. If you live alone, unplug your landline and throw your cell phone in the pool. You are going to need uninterrupted periods of silence. No TV, no radio, no iPod. Trust me. Your body needs to concentrate on recovery not on Lady Gaga, and certainly not on Wham! or Air Supply.
If you do not live alone, you may have to coax your co-habitators into leaving you alone and providing you with silence. Depending on their level of stubborness, feel free to turn it up as high as an Excorcist/Poltegeist level, “Get out!”. If you can do the full-circle head spin, that’s always a plus.
If they try to turn on the television, dont let them. Set the remote on fire. Do whatever it takes. No television! We don’t need subliminal messages entering your head during the recovery period. I don’t want you to wake up days from now with a desire to own Chia Pets and/or Ginsu Knives.
2. Treat the symptoms. The symptoms are annoying as hell, aren’t they? And, again, they are a distraction. Your body can’t concentrate on purging itself of a virus while it’s busy dealing with coughing, sore throats, sinus headaches, etc. This is the main reason why we have to load up on medication and treat the symptoms. Trust me. This is coming from someone who is highly anti-medication.
3. When chosing medications, read the labeling carefully and be sure to take stuff that is known to knock you out. Remember you need the rest. If it’s OK to operate heavy machinery while using this product, you’re holding the wrong product.
If you choose NyQuil, be sure to take the right combination of stuff. If you have a stuffy head, make sure you take the one with a decongestant. If you are coughing a lot, make sure you take the one with cough stuff in it. They all look similar but have different stuff in them. it’s confusing as hell.
Personally, I like the one that has Acetaminophen, Dextromethorphan (Cough Suppressant), and Doxylamine Succunate (Antihistamine) – even though I’m really, really not a fan of antihistamines overall – oh, and 10% ALCOHOL. Gotta have the alcohol. Then, separately, if you’re having congestion problems, take some Pseudoephedrine. The real stuff. Yeah, baby… The kind you can use to make crystal meth, blow up your house, and further devaluate your neighborhood. Accept no substitute. That other stuff barely works.

By the way, it is totally insane that people make crystal meth to get high. READ THIS.
Just imagine what could be accomplished if all that effort went into something productive.
Ah, but let’s move on…
4. Eat a box of Fat Free Fig Newtons.

I’m not sure if this is an essential part of the recovery process but, the other day when I passed out from my exhaustion, congestion, fever and Nyquil, there was a brand new box of Fat Free Fig Newtons near me. When I awoke, seemingly days later, after chasing those briefcase carrying nuns off the railroad tracks, the box was empty…and I felt much better. That’s all I’m saying.
5. To get a really good night’s sleep, you gotta be able to breathe. For this, you need the worst thing that we have used yet… Oxymetazoline HCI, commonly referred to by one of its name brands, Afrin. The directions tell you to use 2 or 3 sprays into each nostril. I recommend, no more than 2. One good spray usually does it.

From the time you get a wiff of this stuff, you know it can’t be good. It starts burning out your nose, later you end up breathing too well and you start punching yourself in the face, trying to make it stop. Crazy! I Know.
Barnsley says I’m going to get sued by the drug companies… Doubtful, if anything this might increase its recreational use… among the moron population.
Ah… Now we have a good cocktail of stuff going in our system. We are going to get some rest, visit some nuns, and we are on the road to recovery. Oh, yeah!
6. A day or two have probably passed by now and people will be wondering how you are doing… Pretend you don’t know them. “Who are you? …and what do you want?” If they persist, call the police on them.
When dealing with people at your house, you should pass out as much as possible, mid-conversation is best. Then wake up three hours later and pick up the conversation from the same spot, as if unaware that any time has passed. First, you need the rest. Feel free to pass out. Second, this reinforces the idea that, you should be left alone, in silence, because speaking to you is, essentially, useless.
7. OK, we’re bringin’er home…
You’ve been flying high on over-the-counter medications for several days, resting a lot, passing out whenever it seemed like a good idea, and you’ve basically excommunicated yourself from friends and family. Perfect.
The final step is a bit of a slingshot. Something to push you way out over the edge and then snap you back into reality. Those observing will think you’ve totally lost it, then they’ll be happy and rejoice in your speedy recovery.
You’ve been recovering silently for days. Now it’s time to break the silence. But you can’t go with anything too normal or too familiar, you need to stimulate the brain. You need something so bad, that it’s good. You need something so insulting, that it’s flattering. You need your brain to kick into high gear to ensure that you haven’t lost your mind.
What you decide to listen to, you have to choose for yourself.
I chose Sport of the Future‘s cover of Sweet Child O’ Mine.
Whatever you choose.. Play it loud, play it a lot. Love it. Hate it!
Check them out on YouTube. They also cover: Eye of the Tiger, You Give Love a Bad Name, Bilie Jean, Karma Chameleon, Maneater and more. Note: Be extremely careful when clicking around there. They do a cover of Material Girl – it is not pretty. That could be considered an overdose! (Crazy, freakin’ Canadians.)
So, that’s it…
This was my formula for a quick recovery. Your results may vary.
By the way, in the three days that I was sick, I lost 5 pounds. Unfortunately, by following the methodology described herein, I got well right away, which completely foiled by new weight loss plan. If only I could have been for a few weeks, I think I could have shed those other 15 that I’ve been trying to lose since 2001. Let’s be careful out there.
Thanks for watching the show. I have to run. It’s Margarita Friday somewhere.
But stay tuned, Barnsley has a few things he wants to say.
Love yas
– Arch
It’s all yours, Barns… (Remember: Barnsley has a British accent.)
[Archie Kobain is not a medical professional and is in no way qualified to make any suggestions whatsoever regarding medical treatments or the use of any over-the-counter medications. The materials contained in this blog are written for entertainment purposes only and should not be taken as advice, medical or otherwise. Doing anything that is suggested in this blog will most likely kill you. I guess you can’t sue us if you’re dead…but also, it might not kill you. So if you’re a suicidal looney bun and you’re trying to kill yourself, well – there’s no guarantees there either. But per this disclaimer, you should also not be able to sue us if you don’t die – or under any circumstances, in the event that you just end up really messed up, or insane, or looking at all like this picture of Boy George…]

There… That should cover us.
~ Barnsley Scott
Appearing as Legal Counsel & Bartender
for Archie Kobain Enterprises Worldwide
(not including Guam & South Dakota).
We’re the dead meat club…
June 19, 2011
Well, I’m not exactly dead meat, but I’m close…
Upon returning from Bonnaroo, a terrible illness has befallen upon the Kobain household. At first, I thought it was just my body trying to purge all of the Tennessee dust that I absorbed at the four day music festival this year. No such luck… I’ve been sick in bed for the last two days. Can’t really see the computer screen, and I keep dozing off and having very weird, hallucinogenic, Nyquil induced dreams…
Old lady on a bus bench yelling, “this is dangerous”.
Aquarium filled with purple fish, swimming in purple water.
Nuns with briefcases, racing across a busy highway.
…yep, I’ve seen them all.
I hate to say it but…
I’m sorry. I can’t come to the door right now. I’m afraid that in my weakened condition, I could take a nasty spill down the stairs and subject myself to further school absences. You can reach my parents at their places of business. Thank you for stopping by. I appreciate your concern for my well-being.
Have a nice day!
I don’t know how I’m ever going to get to all the stories that I have to tell. Funny, today, I can’t even think of any of them, I just keep thinking about…
Clocks
Clocks, watches, analog or digital – it’s the one universal thing that you can trust. You can walk right up to a perfect stranger in Central Park and say, “excuse me, do you have the time?” He tells you and you trust him. And his answer was probably close enough to accurate. Just imagine going up to that same person and asking, “excuse me, is there one true God?”
How can this be? We can’t get people to agree on almost anything. Yet, we can all agree on what time it is right now. Even crazier, there are clock manufacturers and watch makers around the globe, who also agree on the speed of time and make every clock and watch keep time at exactly the same pace.
Uh… Damned nuns. Now they’re running across railroad tracks.
Are you thinking about this? A $10 Swatch and a $20K Rolex both keep time at the same pace. If you were off by even one second per hour, within a month you could be off by an hour…but that just doesn’t happen. Most clocks work just fine. I’m telling you, it’s the one universal agreement. One second is one second long…
You’re probably thinking, “what’s the big deal? Time works. Get over it.”
Yes. But it’s my job to make you think about things you hadn’t thought of.
So read on, from WikiPedia, the source of all Internet knowledge:
Early definitions of the second were based on the apparent motion of the sun around the earth. The solar day was divided into 24 hours, each of which contained 60 minutes of 60 seconds each, so the second was 1⁄86 400 of the mean solar day. However, 19th- and 20th century astronomical observations revealed that this average time is lengthening, and thus the sun/earth motion is no longer considered a suitable basis for definition. With the advent of atomic clocks, it became feasible to define the second based on fundamental properties of nature. Since 1967, the second has been defined to be the duration of 9,192,631,770 periods of the radiation corresponding to the transition between the two hyperfine levels of the ground state of the caesium-133 atom.
Go ahead. Talk amongst yourselves.
Now, I’m not sure what troubles me more…
The little old Swiss watchmaker, somewhere outside of Versoix, “I need me some caesuim-133 atoms so that I can count the radiaition periods!” Where does one get caesuim-133 atoms? How do you count that fast? “Damn, I lost count just past 8 million!” – or – is anyone worried about the fact that solar day is lengthening? Doesn’t that mean that the Earth is slowing down?
There has to be deeper meaning to all of this.
I’d love to explore this farther but now there’s a train coming.
I have to try and get all these nuns off the tracks.
See you next time.
– Arch
I always said, I could suck a duck…
June 10, 2011
Good morning Sodom and Gomorrah,
Good morning sinners.
No, that wasn’t your radio set on the bleep again…
.
Well, here I am. (A)Live at Bonnaroo.
I was actually going to do a live broadcast of some sort.
Unfortunately, Barnsley was having a little trouble with the satellite uplink…

Then, when we almost had it fixed, he ran off to hear Sharon Van Etten at the Which Stage. He’s probably near the tree. Which Tree? Exactly.
So, you wanna hear about Bonnaroo? Here you go…
Is the music good? Absolutely. But I’m sure you can GoogaBing “Bonnaroo 2011” and find dozens of websites ready to review the talent, tell you about the fresh bluegrass sounds of Greensky Bluegrass, what the hippies are smoking (or licking) this year, and the fact that Band of Skulls rocked the roof off the That Tent on opening night.
I must say, I was a little disappointed that Benny Lava wasn’t part of the line-up. I really came just to see him, as he continues to be the primary “person of interest” in my on-going investigation concerning the Indian Mafia Hess Reese’s Conspiracy. Take a look at this video. I have reason to believe there are hidden messages contained within…
The real story for me, as usual, occurred on…
The Road to The Roo
It was an educational experience. Once again I was unable to participate in the Tampa to Manchester RV trek. Instead, I took a U.S. Airways flight through Charlotte to Chattanooga and relied on a duly appointed delegation of the BonnaBros to scoop me up and, eventually, deliver me to the event.
What did I learn along the way? Well, for starters, when the TSA folks ask you if you have any weapons, apparently you shouldn’t respond with, “why…what do you need?” Also, the airlines work a lot less like taxi cabs than you would think. For example: Tipping the pilot and asking him to “step on it” doesn’t get you to your next connection any faster. I won’t even tell you what happens if you offer to buy him a drink.
Next, I verified the rumor that Florida has been secretly exporting all of their ugly people to the Carolinas. It’s true. I was on one of the “cargo flights” with some of the scariest people I’ve ever seen. There was the everything from the Jesse Ventura look-alike, a few Village People wanna-bees, and the ex-wife of Frankenstein (formerly the Bride of Frankenstein). They were all on my flight. Coincidence? I think not.
By the way, I was sent intell by a secret operative. Apparently, Office Depot is in on the whole Indian Mafia, Hess / Reese’s Peanut Butter Eggs conspiracy!
But I digress…
I won’t bother telling you about my flight or about the fine quality of the U.S. Airways coffee, which should say, “We Proudly Brew Whatever Coffee is on Sale”. Instead, I’ll skip right to Chattanooga, where upon landing, I find out that the BonnaBros have overheated on the way…and their vehicle was experiencing similar difficulties.
They are hours away and I’m at an airport. Sure, I could stick around there and mess with the TSA people. After all, I was already in the secure area… Maybe I could leave some unattended luggage lying around and see what happens?
.
I wanna see you in the morning
I wanna see you when the breaking day is dawning
.
Nope. I decided to head downtown and drink with the locals. I love Chattanooga locals. They are a friendly bunch and I want to send out a kudos to those who made my several hours at the Mellow Mushroom go by in the blink of an eye. First there was Marly (possibly, Marlie)… You rock. Whether I was outside, at the bar, or roaming aimlessly around the restaurant, you tracked me down and brought me my Yuengling.
Then there was Nanner.
Nanner, it was a pleasure to meet you…
(See… I told you I’d make you artificially famous.)
And finally, Leslie – from the Hilton Garden Inn, who is actually from Manchester, TN. Without you, I might still be wondering aimlessly around Chattanooga. Thanks for you extensive research and getting me in the right cab and pointed in the right direction. Note: I may have had a few drinks at the Mellow Mushroom. (I blame Marly.) I needed direction.
So, in the end… I made it to Bonnaroo.
We’re in the RV, the BonnaBros are all here and the party is in full motion.
Thanks for checking on me. Unfortunately, I gotta go.
I have very little bandwidth and very little brain power.
Did I mention, I’m at Bonnaroo?
See you next week.
– Arch
Wrapped up like a douche…
June 3, 2011
…I’m gonna roam’er in the night.
Instead of the stuff I had planned for this week, entitled,
The Misguided Ramblings of an Alcohol Enthusiast in New York City,
I must report on my recent ordeal at the Hess Express in Lake Grove, NY…
Archie Leaks (Mostly in the batrhroom): The Hess/Reese’s Cables
You know how absolutely everything has a built-in camera these days. So now, everyone can be part of “the man”. I, personally, think it’s great. You Tube and Twitter are now beating all mainstream media to breaking news by at least 45 minutes. This is the world we live in. Cameras are everywhere. People snapping pictures, for no apperantly reason, is a way of life. After all, digital photos are essentially free, as is broadcasting those pictures.
Well, today…here in June, I see that this Hess station is selling Reese’s Peanut Butter Eggs. We all know that those are usually only sold around at Easter, which was almost two months ago? So what’s the deal? Did these guys over-buy at Easter time and they still have some? …or did the supplier have a surplus and these guys decided to buy them all up at a bargain price? …do they have an expiration date?
You’ll notice that the Reese’s Peanut Butter Eggs does not appear under the standard set of products at the Hershey’s Reese’s website…
http://www.hersheys.com/reeses/products.aspx
Instead they appear under Seasonal Products: Easter
http://www.hersheys.com/reeses/recipes-and-ideas/seasonal/products.aspx
I knew I was onto something. So, I decided to take a picture of the Reese’s Peanut Butter Eggs and “text” said photo to a friend, who is known to love Reese’s Peanut Butter Eggs and hates the fact that (normally) you can’t get them out of season. I knew that my friend, with deep emotional ties to “the eggs”, might be able to provide some answers.
Suddenly, the girl behind the checkout counter asks me, “did you take a picture?”.
So…I’m like, “what?”
And she repeats, “did you take a picture?”
And I say, “yes…of the Reese’s Peanut Butter Eggs”.
So she starts nodding her head in disbelief and signals to the manager.
The manager, moves quickly to her side and says to me, “you have to ask first!”.
And I respond, “I have to ask before taking a picture of Peanut Butter Eggs?”
He then explains to me, in a somewhat pissy, Indian-American accent, that no one is allowed to take pictures inside the store, “It’s the company policy”.
The Company Policy?
What company? Not my company policy?
According to Wikipedia, central source of all Internet knowledge, “The Company” could refer to The Society of Jesus or the Christian Catholic Order of St. Ignatius…but I don’t think that’s what they were talking about. Wikepedia continues to say, The Company could also refer to either the CIA or the Indian Mafia, “an organised body of criminals based in India”. Hmmm… Now I think I’m onto something. Maybe it’s a little of each. The CIA and the Indian Mafia, possibly in an ellaborate plot to confuse Christianity, using the Reese’s Peanut Butter Egg as the conduit for their evil plan.
Well, one look at Hridayesh and Madhuri and I knew the CIA was off the hook. I wanted to know more but I didn’t have my passport with me and I knew there were only seconds before an white, unmarked, Mercedes G-Class would pull up, things would go dark, and I would wake up a few days later, wearing kurta pajamas, in room with bare cinder block walls and a barred window featuring a distant view of The Haji Ali Dargah.

Kurta Pajamas
Pretending that I wasn’t on to his Indian mafia connection,
I asked, “what company, Hess?”
He could see that I was lying, so to speak, but decided to give me a break.
He smiled and answered, “yes”.
My first thought was to take a picture of him, then run to my getaway car. Of course, the people I was with didn’t know we were a getaway car. Plus, I think “the manager” had just turned informant. He wanted me to get away with the information that I had just stumbled upon. So… I just gave him a look, as if to say, “your secret is safe with me”, but acknowledging that I understood all that was going on here with Hess, the Indian Mafia, the Reese’s Peanut Butter Eggs and giving him my solemn pledge to expose this conspiracy to the world. So I quickly gathered my purchases, ran to my waiting vehicle, and insisted that we “step on it”, as if I had just robbed a bank. And, almost as quickly as we had arrived, our rented Dodge Charger became just another inconspicuous traveler among the Long Island traffic.
So, who is in on this? Just this one Hess Express? The entire Hess Corporation? The people at Hershey’s? And, discounting the whole India connection, for just a moment, let’s ponder whether or not the Hess Corporation actually has any authority over anyone’s abilities to take pictures inside their stores. My guess would be that, inside of a facility that they own, they probably have the right to allow or disallow the taking of pictures…maybe. Lord knows that if you show up with commercial cameras at a Disney property, the Disney police show up asking you for permits within 30 seconds. But really, seriously? What kind of deep dark secrets do you suppose are lingering inside this oil company’s, gas-station-attached convenience stores, whereby snapping photographs is against company? …to the point where the employees need to berate the violating customer?
You know who needs to enforce this company policy? Wal-mart.
I mean… Have you seen People of Wal-mart.com …?
There’s something that needs stopping.
Well, anyway, here’s the photograph…
Resolution? Well… I now feel obliged to encourage all my readers to visit your local Hess Gas Station, take pictures of dumb stuff, like Reese’s Peanut Butter Eggs, and send those photos to me… I will try to publish them here, unless “The Hess Man” is able to shut me down and I end up in Mumbai. In the meantime, maybe we will discover Hess’ deep dark secrets, maybe will we find out how they can get Peanut Butter Eggs while the rest of the world has to wait for Easter.
The truth is out there.
.
Huh! I’m outta luck, outta love
Gotta photograph, picture of
Passion killer, you’re too much
You’re the only one I wanna touch
.
Maybe soon I can tell you about the rest of my NY trip.
Next week, I’ll be Bonnaroo Bound. Bonnarooooo!
For now, I’m off…
Off like a cheap suit, Off like a Prom Dress…
– Arch


