I love Scoooootch! I love Gooooooold!

A little PHC teaser before the weekend of weekends. The Murph is re-uniting with Jagermonster in the D (uptown stizz) for one epic, green bottle blasting, SP Mode Spying, Alcoholic Robot Imitating, HURRICANE MUTHAFUCKIN DONKEYBONER WEEKEND!!! Get the street sweepers out, for my liver cries tonight. Birthday celebrations for Kelly and Erin...where else but THE LOON! Vodka Tonics...4 fingers high vodka, splash of sprite, 1 quarter lime, 3 ice cubes, little black straw. MARVELOUS. Three dollars you say? In Dallas? Get out of town. Predictions: Fire-Hydrant style Vomits, 3 empty bottles of jager, tennis on saturday (proceeded by vahmit), Venus gets out of control, Scotty Dub pees on the futon, Swampthing comes up for air and makes another appearance. Tees will be bovs'd upon.




A proverbial land missile? Nope...just some dude doing 205 ON A FUCKING CROTCH-ROCKET! I used to have a friend with a street bike. His name was douchebag.

Worst way to die....fire? suffocation? G-DUBS? Nope...this guy has got you beat.

David Koresh...you figure he's stealing money from his followers, stockpiles some cash, and decides he needs a decent ride to cruise around Waco and pick up some young central Texas skirts. What better car to cruise some talent with than a 1968 Chevy Camaro - 427 cu.in. block and 500 donkeypower, Gone In Sixty Seconds stizz (sans DSL Angelina Jolie). Totally matches the mullet and aviators. Miraculously (no pun intended), the car managed to escape the blaze unscathed (barring a few minor TANK scratches), and is now being auctioned off on EBAY. Charlie Murphy will ride $20 as far as it will go.

Oprah = Scam Artist. (robvs)
First of all, the cars Okrah gave away last week were not in fact bought by her.
They were donated by Pontiac, and she played it off as if she bought the damn things herself. What a fraud. And if Oprah were a true philanthropist, she would cover the whopping $7,000 per car in tax costs each studio member will accrue if they accept the shitwagon. I guess my marketing professor was right when he said, "There's no such thing as a free lunch."


And with that, I'm northbound 45, left on Hall, straight into the arms of my favorite girls (Yerby, Stinie, and Erin, NATCH!). Thanks in advance for babysitting me all weekend. See you at Whataburger, 4 am sharp! schmears!

Wrong side of the bed

How many times will this picture pop up in the media over the next couple of days? What a nightmare. And what bad timing…I mean the bastard is riding high after the mild success of Saved, and then he gets caught carrying half an ounce of weed (modest chunk), and Xanex (which he definitely didn’t have a prescription for). Some say worst move since letting Jacko touch his tee-tee.

An amazing article by John Lopez (Houston Chronicle) describing the Atrophy of American Supremecy in athletics after the Europeans made us walk to the red tees with our dongs hanging out (old golf rule) at this year's Ryder Cup. This guy is dead on. Americans once again have something to prove to the rest of the world...who will step up to the challenge?

Martha Stewart. Why do I feel like this trip to Jail will only help her stock. Go Figure.

Honestly...how many fucking CSI shows can run at the same time before America spontaneously vomits their El Charrito Saltillo TV dinner all over the living room? I mean, THREE are on during primetime slots this fall. I DON’T GIVE A SHIT ABOUT WHO FAKE-MURDERED SOME CRACK DEALER IN EITHER MIAMI, NEW YORK, OR LAS VEGAS! SHIT!!!

Jason Alexander - dude...my favorite show on TV is ESPN's Pardon The Interruption. Now, Jason...Seinfeld was huge...you played a character who was funny...it was based upon the life of Larry David (writer of Seinfeld and Curb Your Enthusiasm)...the act fit your look...but your last couple of projects have bombed. Maybe you should hang up the spikes. Your new show, based on Espn's PTI, features you playing a cranky, hot-headed (starting to sound familiar?), animated sports anchor...albeit Tony Kornheiser is way funnier than you will ever be. I guess some actors, although unfortunate, can only realize success when accepting roles suited for their typecast (see Matt LeBlanc). If it weren't for Theo Huxtable playing your sidekick, I probably wouldn't even bother to watch. Maybe you should start reconsidering a sequel to Dunston Checks In.

The only thing worse than listening to Soft Rock
(don't get me wrong...Charlie Murphy loves Phil Collins, but they repeat that shit like 5 times a day) at work is listening to Country all day. My new hate: the song by Gretchen Trailer-fem that's about redneck women and goes "Hell Yeah" like 50 times. I want to dig out my eardrums with the surgical scissors every time I hear that damn song. Whatever happened to hott female country artists like Mindy McCready? Hillbilly Heroin?


Does your Grandmother relate everything in the universe to food like mine does? I love Mama Eva, she's a saint. But sometimes she makes me laugh out loud at her on the phone. For instance, last week I was asking her about Mom, Dad, and the house back in New Orleans (they stayed with her because of the hurricane). Her reply, "Oh...they're fine. But Charlie...I bought the most beautiful ham yesterday at the grocery store...you wouldn't believe it." I mean...I'm trying to check on my parents' life status and assess the possible damage done to our house by the hurricane, and she's bragging to me about some glorious ham she just purchased from the butcher. Lesson? Cajuns are serious about their meat.

Nalgene bottles have become quite the trend these days. I think I saw a 7 year old walking to school with one clipped to her backpack the other day. Being the avid outdoorsman, I have collected a few over the years...not as a trend setter...but for the simple fact that they are supposed to be able to withstand a fall from some rediculous height (I think the dude at Whole Earth told me 10 stories). Anywizz...I ran my own little experiment yesterday. Full of water. 5 story parking garage. To my amazement, held its form...and I am a satisfied customer.

Bush and Kerry have their first televised debate slated for next week in Florida. Do yourself a favor and watch.

Mrs. Federline. "The nondenominational ceremony took place at a private home in Studio City, California, with about twenty guests in attendance, including Spears' mother Lynne and younger sister actress Jamie Lynn. The couple ate chicken fingers and ribs, and danced to Journey." JOURNEY?!! Come on. Need I say more? Did you see that MTV COMMERCIAL about how the girl wasn't going to put the name of Brit's husband on the wedding card cause she knows she'll have to change it later? Re-Fucking-Donkulous....maybe you had to be there.

Speaking of funny commercials...the new Bud Light commercial where the ref gives the dude a 15 yard penalty for a Tribal Band arm tattoo. Classic!

Guns and alcohol don't mix? Don't tell this guy.

Okay....I just finished this at work (on the clock!), and I have a surgery to assist. Catch me on the flip side.

DON'T CHANGE.

Whoa, Bob, Whoa

Slowly making the turn after a weekend that, let's be honest, could hold the number one slot for the year's best. Jeez...where do I even start?

Left The Station on Friday afternoon straight from work. Arrived in Austin at roughly 6pm. We unloaded our bags and headed straight for Zilker Park.

Day One: Toots and the Maytals. so tight. Godfather of reggae...perfect slow, methodical jamming...bass drum thumping, 4-string slapping goodness. Really the highlight of the night considering the last two shows suffered through were Durst Ferdinand and Los Dursty Boys, respectively (almost would rather have caught Sheryl Crow-Armstrong instead...almost). Franz threw together some of their crappy scot-pop songs, intermittently sprinkled with broken-english commentary (trainspotting stizz). Add to that some technical difficulties and a terrible sound engineer, and you've got a recipe for auditory diarrhea. no buzz.

Day Two: After sleeping until noon for the first time in weeks, we headed out again. Much better line-up. Started out with The Old 97's. Awesome. Next session was split between Howie Day (come ci, come ca...that's Franch asshole), and The Gourds. Directly proceeded by Modest Mouse (which they played mainly old stuff...thank god), My Morning Jacket (check them out), Trey Anastasio (of phish fame), The Pixies (Frank Black...so tigs) and G-Love and Special Sauce. All great shows...Highlights included Old 97's, Trey and G-Love.

Day Three: Best day of all. Kick it off with Mofro...a band from Florida who knows how to rally the crowd. Nothing gets the hairs standing on the back of Charlie Murphy's neck like a wild-ass pipe-organ style keyboard, harmonica, and slide guitar. They get better and better every time i see them. Schmears. One of my personal favs at the moment. Next was The Roots. They get The Murph's Blue Ribbon award. Seriously...tore the lid off that stage. Probably the most crowded set all weekend...I'm talking over 50,000 moist people crowded for this event alone (out of 75,000). ?uest-love was beatin them skins...and Captain Kirk (lead guitar...who I met after the show and shook his hand)...damn. In the middle of the set, they started playing The Seed 2.0, and then broke out into a cover of Duran Duran's "White Lines", followed by a cover of Sugarhill Gang's "Rapper's Delight", into "Goodtimes". Effing unbelievable. Also covered was Santana's "Black Magic Woman". Left me dripping. After The Roots, caught North Mississippi Allstarts (tight), Jack Johnson (chill-best), and the Drive By Truckers (true southern rock - grits and bacon stizz).

Overall, the weekend was huge. Highlights: Mueller's handicap parking pass which enabled us to park at the apartments 50 yards from the venue (as opposed to parking somewhere downtown and walking 5 miles like everyone else), my two-minute Baja Fresh deuce (seriously impressive considering time constraints), the hott little blonde girl wearing a long white skirt and skimpy tank top dancing next to me like a little flower child on acid, GK's experience, megan's hottness (and gracious party weekend hospitality), green haze, taco bell's new value menu, crowd frisbee w/ kent, DY's filth, Opitz getting over his worthless ex.
Worst: 98 degree temp. w/ no wind, Big Fat 60 year old Hippie dancing in front of me (seriously man, you can wear deodorant and still be a hippie), dude w/ a tattoo on his back which wasn't visible due to back hair, fat girl w/ nipple piercings wearing no shirt, franz ferdinand, ass sweat, drink prices, laws.


Yeah...that's pretty much all I gots the juice for right now. Keep the Bovs flowin' like Niagra.

Don't Change.