Archie Kobain

SPECIAL SATURDAY EDITION

Dear President Raspberry,

(Note: I was going to call him BlackBarry – that’s not a misspelling – but I didn’t want to offend anyone, like the folks at Research in Motion, makers of the BlackBerry mobile phone products.)

Your speech on Tuesday night was brilliant, as always.  Thanks for keeping it short and not interfering with the season premiere of Sons of Anarchy on FX – a truly disturbing show.

But let me see if I understand this…
Using some of your own words, 98% of humanity has decided that chemical weapons are of such a horrific nature, that they have been deemed internationally illegal under all circumstances.  No nation may use them, even as a last ditch effort to save themselves, because…  We, as humans, have collectively decided that we will not be that kind of race or live on that kind of planet.

Now we have definite proof that the currently-in-power Syrian government has violated this “prime directive” of humanity, gassing of hundreds of civilian women and children, and we, first of all, have failed to smack them down for it.  Second, after an unimaginable amount of time, deciding how to smack them down gently, while they were lying to the world and saying, “we didn’t use chemical weapons, we don’t have chemical weapons, we don’t even know where to get chemical weapons” – now, we’re not going to smack them down at all.

The Russians say to them, “hey…if you give up your chemical weapons, I bet we can get the US to back off” …and they say, “oh…OK”.   And we’re good with that!!!  WTF?

An unstable (from an international security perspective) government commits crimes against humanity and we just take their toys away and look the other way?  This is equivalent to someone shooting a few thousand people and, at the end of the day, we just take away their AK47, and give them a $5 gift card to Starbucks.  Unfr#@kin’ believable.

So then, the French, known for their courage and valor, chime in and say, “yes…let’s take away their chemical weapons but there will be grave penalties for failing to comply with the rules set out by the international community”.  Ha, ha!!!  And what did Syria say?

They said, “oh no… we’l relinquish the chemical weapons (that we don’t have), but no one is coming here to police us, tell us what to do, or enforce anything”.

I suppose we’re going to be good with that too?
Why not?  He seems like a nice guy…

Unfr#@kin’ believable.  Did I already say that?
It will be interesting to see how this plays out…

Let’s change the subject!

Let’s talk about:
An airplane full of hot chicks…
So a few weeks ago, I’m coming back from Remulak (a small village in France) and, as we’re getting ready to board, I look around and I’m thinking, “wow…this hasn’t happened in a while”.  Barnsley and I had booked a flight on what could only be described as…a plane full of supermodels.  I mean, there were only about 5 people on flight who weren’t hot chicks:  Me, Barnsley, the guy who looked like Freddie Mercury (not long-haired Freddy Mercury, more like the short-haired big mustache Freddy Mercury), the bad ass Hungarian lady who looked like she wanted to kick your ass, and the lady with a bright white glowing paleness emanating from her skin.  Other than that, all hot chicks of varying ages, sizes, and skirt lengths.

We board the plane and, as it turns out, Barnsley and I both have window seats on opposite sides of the same row.  I’m in Seat 29A and he’s in Seat 29F.  In a loud whisper, I’m like, “Barns…have you noticed all the hot chicks on this flight?”

Just then the Hungarian lady arrives and takes Seat 29C, leaving empty the seat immediately next to me. Oh and here comes a good looking redhead…and she’s glancing this way.  Could it be??? No!  The good looking redhead takes Seat 29D, across the aisle, over by Barnsley and he instantly tries charming her with all of his Britishness.

Next comes a good looking blonde wearing a black skirt and possibly the longest legs that anyone has ever seen.  Seriously.  Think of the longest legs you’ve ever seen, then add about three inches – now you’re getting close.  “Legs” looks at the seat next to me, then looks at the Hungarian lady like, “yo bitch… you’re in my seat”. The Hungarian then lady looks at me like – “if you talk to me, I will kill you” – as she slides her massive body towards me.  Ignoring the Hungarian delegate, I try saying “hello” to the blonde. She somewhat acknowledges my presence and then speaks something in a foreign language. I not sure she said anything to me.  It was more of a general announcement to anyone listening. In retrospect, I think she was hinting to the Hungarian lady, “shall we kill him now or later?”  Just then the Hungarian lady looks at me like – “update: if you talk to my girlfriend I will also kill you”.

Just then, the guy who looks like Freddie Mercury shows up and takes the seat in between Barnsley and the redhead. Meanwhile, the long legged blonde sits down, causing her skirt to shift upward about three feet.  Her knees are touching the back of the seat in-front of her. I’m powerless to look away until…I that sense that someone is looking at me.  Ugh… The Hungarian lady is actually starring at me.  She doesn’t say a word but her look says, “if you think you’re going to look at her knees this whole flight, you will die quietly somewhere over the Atlantic”.

Over on Barnsley’s side, he was apparently sexting with someone and Freddie Mercury kept looking over his shoulder at his phone, so he starts typing…

“OK, you wanker, I see you. I know you’re reading this.”

“That’s right, I’m talking to you.”

“You keep this up, I’m going to introduce you to Mr. Elbow.”

“Nice pants, by the way.”

Freddy spent the next ten hours talking to the redhead and watching the knees across the aisle from him.  Scared to death of the Hungarian lady, I planned to spend most of the next ten hours looking out the window. But then, in the middle of the boarding process, a glowing light seemed to be shining down upon us.

Whoa… The bright white glowing lady was sitting in the row in front of me.
I looked over and the Hungarian lady was now wearing sunglasses…at night.
(Probably so she can weave then breath your story lines.
I turn to her and say: Don’t switch the blade on the guy in shades. Oh, no!)

They say that when life give you lemons, you should make lemonade. Well, there’s no way the Hungarian lady was going to squeeze my lemons (insert Led Zeppelin lyrics here). So sometimes, you just have to order lemonade (or whatever is available) from the flight attendants and several of those little bottles of Jack Daniels.

Bottom Line:  It’s a good thing I sleep well on airplanes.
“See you in the next life, wake me up for meals.” – Warren Zevon

What’s up with Miley Cyrus?
I mean, she’s always been somewhat annoying, her and her Achy Breaky Mullet-Sporting Dad
but at least she was reasonably cute…

How did this happen…

And what exactly is she doing to that hammer?  Is Peter Gabriel watching this and yelling, “it took 27 years, but someone finally gets what I meant by… I wanna be your sledgehammer!”

I can see the director saying, “now Miley, it’s going to take balls to do this”.
But ultimately, they decided on just one big ball…

Here, just watch the Wrecking Ball video…

It’s as if Robyn lost a bet and had to perform a Gotye song… Naked… On construction equipment!  Speaking of wrecking, it’s a lot more like a train wreck – it’s not pretty but for some reason, you can’t stop looking.

Now this does not make her our musical guest of the week.
This week’s musical guest is someone who you’ve most likely not heard of – it’s just a great video that I stumbled across.  If you’re a fan of Talking Heads and you appreciate an artist who can drive an acoustic-electric axe, run a looper, and deliver a fabulous one-man remake of an 80’s classic, do not miss this.  Here is YouTube recording artist, Jason Montero’s and his version of Psycho Killer…

Love it…  Great stuff, Jason!

That’s it.  That’s pretty much all I have today.  Although if we’re going to do a Saturday morning edition, we really can’t not-recognize one the greatest Saturday morning redheads of all time.  I mean, she has to be in her late 60s by now and yet, she still looks hot.  I am, of course, talking about…  Daphne.

Settle down, boys…
She’s not just a little animated.  (Daph…  Call me.)

And that really is all that I have for today.
Other than to say…

My name is Archie Westen.  I used to be a spy.  🙂

Great run, boys!  Fun show. Appropriate ending.

Gotta run…  Peace!!!

– Arch