Archie Kobain

That, of course, was Rock the Casbah, by the British punks, The Clash.

And I bid you welcome to the humble abode of Sir Archibald Mountbatten-Windsor Kobain of York, technically – New York… Kings County. Coincidence? 

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And like the royals,
I insist that we break out the Pol Roger bubbly…

Of course, by the time you read this, the Royal nuptials will have passed. Perhaps the next time we turn on the telly, we’ll be back to hearing some late breaking news surrounding the death of Michael Jackson. 

[Off stage, Barnsley is overheard saying: 
“Oh dear, when did Michael Jackson pass?”]

So…  I heard the Obama’s, possibly as a gift, represnting all of us in the U.S., brought the royal couple of box of CDs. CDs of American Hip Hop artists. This is wrong on so many levels.

I can already hear, “Catherine…  How do we get these bloody things into that little box”. [Pointing to his iPod.]

And you know, I understand that, as a country, we don’t have much money, but I think we could have stepped it up. I think we could have given something unique, like Kanye West.  Complete with transfer of nationality and birthplace, sort of like the birth certificate that comes with Webkinz, but containing some official presidential stamp and wording like:  “Formerly born in Atlanta.  New birthplace: Canterbury”.

Stick him in a big box… OK, fine – we’ll punch a few air holes in it.  A little instruction sheet on what to feed him, grooimg tips like – How to put “artistic curls” into his hair.

Now that would be a gift.

And, normally, I would be worried that some reader, somewhere, with no sense of humor, would be thinking, “Archie… You can’t give away a black man, that’s racist.”  No worries. I have that covered. You see, it would have been the Obama’s giving Kanye to the Brits. So it would be OK. It’s like Chris Rock being able to make all the black jokes that he wants. Besides, when it comes to those check boxes, I’m Hispanic.  So…  I’m playing the Paul Rodriguez card here and declaring that, I get to pick on everybody…. Bro!

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When there’s no future
how can there be sin?
We’re the flowers
in the dust bin
We’re the poison
in your human machine
we’re the future
your future!

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OK, once again…  According to my Blog Consultant (and Bardenter), I’m supposed to make smaller, more often blog entries. As opposed to my, once a week, long and (often) drawn out installments.

Not sure if I can do that. My brain tends to accumulate things all week long. Then, the pressure builds up and …  *** Bam ***  It all spews out like a blown-up “deep water” Transocean rig with a busted blowout preventor thingy… 

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Of course, that’s a picture of the explosion that may have caused that whole incident. Not so much a photo of the spewing. But a picture with fire always out-ranks a picture of spewing.  Wouldn’t you agree?  Plus, I’m still trying to figure out where to get one of those ships with a giant squirt guns to hose me down when it gets a little too hot at Bomba’s “Surfside” Shack…

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By the way, the last of the closed fisheries reopened in the Gulf last week, according to this Press Release from RestoreTheGulf.gov.

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 I thought I felt your touch.
in my car, but no such luck.
No. I guess, it was just someone,
who felt a lot like I remember you do.

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Alright… Hot Pants!  (That’s for my Old School followers.)

I guess it’s time to throw a few Gulf fish on the barbie…

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Holy crap….  Barnsley, my fish is on fire!
…and it smells like burning petroleum.  Barnsley!

BP(F) Alert…  Burning Petroleum Fish!

See?  HAL and all those other people at Google aren’t so smart after all. I just Googled “What wine goes with burning fish”.  I got nothing!  Although, possibly relevant, the top entry was referring me to, “Cooking Help”.

Bing is suggesting that I have sushi.  [raised eyebrow]

How am I supposed to make shorter blog entries. I haven’t even talked about anything yet.  I haven’t even mentioned wine yet, I’m still hungry, my lunch is on fire, and so far… no one has managed to get me a pretty girl, in a cute dress, wielding a fire extinguisher… 

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I love that word, “wielding”. It’s normally reserved for things like “a gun” or “a sword”.  I like to use it for everyday things like, “the waiter returned wielding the linguini and white clam sauce, and a Coke with no ice”.

Well, I’m almost of time. Next time, I’m just jumping right into my topic of the day. No fish, no fires, no fungus.  Hmm…  Maybe mushrooms would go well with flaming fish.

Nope. I think I’m just going to send Barnsley over to the Moorish Cafe (in Darwin) – right by the water, past the Charles Darwin International Airport. I really like their Berber-Spiced Kangaroo Meatballs.

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OK, OK, damn it. I’m keeping it short.
I have to go anyway, the “Anything But Clothes” Party is  starting soon.
Don’t want to miss that… 

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I guess I’ll have to dig out my old Busch Man outfit.

Well, that’s it, my friends.
Fortunately I have disclaimed that this blog is about “mostly nothing”.
We really delivered on that campaign promise today.

See you next time.

– Arch