Reunion Tour

BABY BABY BABY OH BAAABY!!!!! AHEM cough cough. Excuse me my lovely patients old Dr. Desire is warming up the old pipes. Seems like it’s been forever since Paco and I’s last show. Oh yes I should probably catch you up before I ramble on too much. You see Paco and I were contributors to one of the most glorious ages of music; 1980’s Hair Metal. It was once our profession to don layers of makeup, skin tight jumpsuits, and shred anthem and ballad on a nightly basis. It all found its beginning in the spring of 1982, and what a year it was the Argentineans invaded the Falkland Islands, a Spanish Priest tried to kill the Pope, my football club Tottenham Hotspur won the FA cup, and Michael Jackson released Thriller.

Paco brushing the dust of his old
Keytar

Paco and I were in our final year in Med School. We entered Med School after the untimely death of our friend Doctor Jules Macalester in Mozambique. Jules was awaiting the return of Paco and me and working in a small village doing charity work for the war torn nation when a band of Apartheid South African backed rebels wiped the village out, including our beloved friend and doctor. Paco and I were dealing with a huge man-eating bull shark in the Zambezi River called “Tuburao Obito.” After dealing with the brute we returned to find our friend taken from us. Rather than replace dear Jules we continued on like Zeppelin after Bonham. However we still needed a capable physician on our expeditions so Paco and I decided why not take a couple of years off and learn the art of our fallen companion.

So there we were, studying to be doctors by day and playing as the folk rock duo the Med Students of Like by night. This pattern repeated itself until 1982 when we took our last exams. And what do you know we passed with flying colors. To celebrate Paco and I took a trip to Monterey Bay where we drank the night away. After rehashing the night we had found out that we took to the stage with four other equally drunk gentlemen and began to rock and a roll like never before. Two things were born that night; Paco got so drunk that he now is unabile to walk on flat damp surfaces, honestly you should see him trying to walk after a light drizzle, it’s like a newborn taking its first step on oil covered ice, and the second birth belongs to the band that contributed the definition of rock and roll to Webster’s Dictionary, The Doctors of Lust.

Our First Album

"Lock n' Loaded and Sticky Fingers
jamming on Give Her Respect

On lead vocals Crackity “Lock n’ Loaded” Jones, on lead guitar Dominic “The Killer Bee” Jacobs, on lead bass Paticio “Nunez” Car, on lead drums Casey “Crash and Tom” Wojtalewicz, on lead keytar Paco “The Rocket Hammer” Picopiedra, and on lead trumpet Joe “Sticky Fingers” Kilkus. Rocking such hits like Love Power Shower and ballads like Give Her Respect we swept through the 80’s like a hair gel through freshly permmed hair, which we all had. Our biggest show was scheduled for the Wembley Stadium parking lot on July 13 1985. Little did we know that the band Queen was playing next door in the actual stadium so our crowd wasn’t as big as we hoped.

The Killer Bee Rocking
on Love Power Shower

We broke up before the destruction of Glam Rock at the hands of Nirvana. We thought that the Pixies or the Replacements would be the one to bring down the beast but it took a song about libido and mosquitoes to permanently stifle it. However we still stay in close contact and recently jammed together. Who knows maybe a reunion tour in on the horizon.

 And when she seems down, give her the respect she needs, dum dum de dum…

Fan Mail

Now I don't usually get myself involved with politics and the like as I find that the less I do the more I feel I have a soul. However two friends of mine Matt Harren, who has somehow tracked me down in the Philippines, what can I say some fans just go the extra mile, and Alex Kurt have sent me an amusing little letter that they wrote for a TV show called The Daily Show. Well I was so tickled by this little bit of penmanship that I decided to reward the duo by making it today's post. I hope you enjoy.

To Whom It May Concern (but don’t get us wrong, we think we’re your biggest fans, just like every other self-righteous s.o.b.),

We’re writing to apologize, in advance, for the reelection of Congresswoman Michelle Bachmann by the people of our fine state. Having been to Minnesota for the 2008 GOP convention coverage we hope you agree that it’s an okay place, and are similarly befuddled by the capacity of any plurality of our populace to elect this gay rally spying McCarthy like batch of crazy to national office three times running. The answer may be one or all of three of these reasons.

1)      While a majority of the district voted for someone other than Bachmann in 08’, we managed to turn that bit of political capital into a victory for her. It is the electoral equivalent of fielding a MLB team with two AL MVPs, a reigning batting champ, a Cy Young contender, a new stadium, and a regular string of division titles, only to be swept by the wild card in the first round of the playoffs. Ya sure, yoo betcha. Bachman somehow wins the necessary amount of votes by acting like one of the mama grizzlies that the coked-out Palin blabbers on about. (Honestly have you looked at her lately, her eyes are more bloodshot and skin is drawn tighter daily) The idea that mama grizzlies are the new face of political feminism is like saying the Lingerie Football League glorifies woman as athletes. Yet Bachman has stirred up enough dirt that the once clear view Minnesotans had of their state is now as murky as Lake Superior.

2)    The joke that has become the Democratic Party has yet to put up a candidate that seems a better option than the Wicked Witch of the 6^th. The Democrats want absolute fealty, if they see even the slightest sign of wavering faith they’ll cannibalize your seat faster than Rush Limbaugh eating… well just about anything. It’s all political pandering being played out by children who want a career and not to better their nation.

3)      Maybe we in the 6^th district have gone back to moonshining like the days of Prohibition and are on a perpetual bender, treating election days like Oktoberfest or St. Patty’s Day, entering the voting booth smelling more of booze than pride in democracy. Unlikely.

Even though her reelection will bring more witticisms from your staff, we weep at the fact that she will likely have another term to poison us with her vile, albeit childlike, rhetoric. Either way her reelection is nigh and we just thought it pertinent to prepare you for this event. In closing, keep up the good work.  We certainly aren’t about to shoulder this burden, having both fled the hemisphere.  And don’t look too harshly upon Minnesota…we gave you Bob Dylan, and we can damned sure take him back.

Sincerely,

Matt Harren

St. Cloud, Minnesota

Relocated to Manila, Philippines (seriously)

Alex Kurt

St. Paul, Minnesota

Relocated to Sumbawanga, Tanzania (also seriously)

p.s. As we are recent graduates with hopes of writing professionally, burdened with loans, entering a poor job market, against all odds, two kids from the wrong side of the track… Do you see where we’re going with this? Anyways good luck with the Rally.

(chuckle chuckle chuckle)...

The Lion Conquers the Stag

The year was 1975, the setting Manila during martial law, the BVC having been betrayed by their supposed allies in the Surely Sailors Collective Resistance (SSCR) led by that now familiar face of villainy Don Diabolico the world was in turmoil. With all the tension built up the BVC were in need of a beacon of hope, a sign that they could rally around, the guardians of Manila needed a Thrilla. Their prayers were answered by a brash and loud mouthed young man from the United States, Muhammad Ali. The reigning world heavyweight champion of the world, Ali sought to prove his dominance on foreign soil against the imposing Joe Frazier.

Many people are familiar with this fight, the Thrilla in Manila, but not many know the greater implications this fight had for the country and the order of the BVC, then known as the Boisterous Voice of Crustaceans.  With Ali’s victory and a country electrified the BVC were able to channel the positivity into the power they needed to rescue their homeland. It would take many years of tireless work until the Philippines were safe again and even today there are still remnants of these dark times.

The SSCR has continued their wretched existence to this day and act as a perpetual thorn in the side of the righteous order of the BVC. Last year it was a force of SSCR pupils that wrest the torch bearing privileges that come with the winning of the sacred tournament from our beloved champions. Many say that their victory was won by trickery and dirty dealings involving money exchanging hands, but never fear my faithful readers their brief reign has been thwarted.

It is with great pride that I announce to you that the BVC’s own Red Lions have reclaimed their rightful place as leaders of their country. I attended the final showdown between the Lions and the SSCR’s Golden Stags hosted at the hallowed sight where Ali had defeated Frazier and witnessed the brutality and grace of this epic battle. Like the titans who had pummeled each other all those years ago the two sides combated both scoring small victories here and there. Many times the SSCR attempted to use the dark ways they have become known for but our Lions did not rise to their petty challenges but rather marched forward with nobility unto victory.

Afterwards the celebrations could be heard round the entirety of Manila, the sky was illuminated with showers of blinding white and crimson conjured up by some of the older BVC brothers. For the first time on my journey I saw the full strength of the BVC as streets were closed to make way for revelry. Drinks flowed freely and the joy of the team and the community was like an electric current flowing through us all. Paco, Roman, and I have been around the world many times and experienced a myriad of joys but this was one that shall live on in my memory for a great deal.

To finish up I suppose I should inform you all that the Philippines is in the path of a Super Typhoon named Juan. While I have never met this Juan or done anything to upset him he has gone and ruined a trip I was planning on taking to one of the other islands. Very rude of him I must say. I am not too worried though as Paco and I have a current competition going on as to who can hold their breath longer underwater. We have gone for hours and adding a Super Typhoon to the wager will only make it more exciting.

Until next time if Juan decides there will be…