For an all-too-brief twelve episodes, there existed a program called Exit 57, from 1995 to 1996. If you enjoy sketch comedy, you already know about it. It was the first place most people saw this guy:
Tag Archives: 1990s
Lost Loves: Exit 57
Comments Off on Lost Loves: Exit 57
Filed under Bad Influences, Faint Signals, Girls of BIUL, Nostalgic Obsessions
Hate Proof: Adam Ant’s “Goody Two Shoes”
You probably won’t believe this, but when I was a stage actor in the late 90s, I hung around with an actual carny. A guy who really did run off to join the circus as a kid, name of D.C.; a character so colorful, the memories seem like legends. We used to cruise the streets of Savannah in his gigantic box truck and pick up chicks. It was every bit as great as it sounds. Who amongst you can say you’ve been a carny’s wingman?
I have no idea where D.C. went after the century’s turn. Probably somewhere fun and awesome, relatively close to a beach or a circus. Backstage when we were castmates in a production of Brendan Behan’s The Hostage, he would signal an impending night of debauchery by singing “pound note, pound note.”
Comments Off on Hate Proof: Adam Ant’s “Goody Two Shoes”
Filed under Bad Influences, Faint Signals, Nostalgic Obsessions, Thousand Listen Club
Sailing The Seas Of Cheese
In 1991, I used to hang out with these chicks. They were, shall we say, really into a band called Jane’s Addiction. Coincidentally, there is a band I violently detest called Jane’s Addiction. I actually spoke the words “if Perry Farrell comes over here, let’s sucker-punch him” to a friend, during set-up for Lollapalooza 2003 (Farrell luckily didn’t approach.) If you are listening to Jane’s Addiction, and the recording is distorted by a throaty, otherworldly moan, it’s a sure indication that I am within earshot.
Thus, in the spirit of diplomacy, I would engender discussion of music other than Jane’s Addiction that the girls liked. Agent Orange was an easy sell, but then of course they focused on the mushy late-80s stuff, like “Fire In The Rain”. The best album they introduced me to was undoubtedly Primus’ Sailing The Seas Of Cheese.
Comments Off on Sailing The Seas Of Cheese
Filed under Bad Influences, Faint Signals, Thousand Listen Club
Takin’ It Back: Ween
In 2018, two years from the time of this writing, Bands I Useta Like (the comic strip) will be twenty years old. In 1998, I drew the initial batch of strips for Mike The Pod Comix #4, and included them in the proposal that saw them properly published, starting in 2002. Among this early run were “the Oingo Boingo strip” and “the Ween strip”.
Comments Off on Takin’ It Back: Ween
Filed under Comix Classic & Current, Faint Signals, Thousand Listen Club
A Can’t-Miss Proposition
2009 was a tense year for BIUL; I was still decompressing post-movie production, and dealing with myriad life-changing bullshit. At some point I drew a comic strip about Living Colour.
No idea who the woman with the awful hair is supposed to be.
Comments Off on A Can’t-Miss Proposition
Filed under Bad Influences, Comix Classic & Current, Faint Signals
Fresh & Fruity
Fruit is a humorous word, as is fruity; “fruitiness” is inherently funny. I’ve never been called a fruit, but I don’t think this affects my judgment of it; I’ve been called a “faggot”, and I still laugh at that word. How can you not crack up at words that rhyme with “agate” and “toot”, particularly when they’re barked in anger? “Agate” is funny-sounding. “Faggot” is just “agate” with a funny hat. See what I mean?
Okay, I know it’s a fine line. What isn’t these days, when it comes to sharing dialogue? My point is, “fruity” used to be a thing. One needn’t necessarily be gay to be fruity, or even queer. Fruity is a sort of indefinable mien, typically the product of societal constraints, resulting in a general state of fruitiness. Like weirdos, fruits don’t refer to themselves as such, but are so named by the more ignorant of the species. To the unknowing, it’s like calling someone a “chair”, or a “table”.
As entertainment continues to move away from “hurting feelings”, a load-bearing pillar of basic comedy, another flavor of humor has been lost.
Fruit flavor.
Comments Off on Fresh & Fruity
Filed under Bad Influences, Faint Signals, Nostalgic Obsessions, Saturday Movie Matinee
Blawgospheres
From BIUL II
Comments Off on Blawgospheres
Filed under Bad Influences, Comix Classic & Current, Idiot's Delight, Magazine Rack, Nostalgic Obsessions
The Song That Can’t Be Named
Roughly every day, I search YouTube for a decent copy of what I consider The Funniest Song I’ve Ever Heard. I like to hear it often, but this is difficult, as the title of the song is “sensitive” these days, and it’s hard to pin down as a result. However, I believe it’s worth the effort.
When I listen to the song I invariably get the urge to share it with everyone. Alas, this is a touchy subject, as the title requires explaining. On the surface, the song is a man lampooning his friend as an insatiably homosexual fiend, presumably to gall him. Beneath this is a story of empowerment and acceptance. Continue reading
Comments Off on The Song That Can’t Be Named
Filed under Bad Influences, Faint Signals, Idiot's Delight, Nostalgic Obsessions, Thousand Listen Club
I Never Liked You: INXS
Within my vast and dubious knowledge of music, there are holes. Some are tiny, like my ignorance of sex droid Taylor Swift. Others are much larger; one is the relative size of six Australians. I have never cared for INXS.
Nearly indistinguishable from Eddie Vedder and Pearl Jam.
The closest I got was “The One Thing”, which saw heavy rotation on MTV in the early 1980s. The band benefited from a visual similarity to other groups, like U2, UB40 and the B-52s, and this sameness ensured my future confusion. I just never found INXS that memorable. Continue reading
Comments Off on I Never Liked You: INXS
Filed under Don't Know Don't Care, Faint Signals, Idiot's Delight, Nostalgic Obsessions, Worst Of All
Hate Proof: Vengaboys’ “We Like To Party”
Imagine yourself sprawled on a nameless battlefield, exhausted, gasping your final breaths into the mud. The air is thick with the scorched smell of spent artillery and the moans of the dying. How long before help arrives? Is it even coming? All you hear is the distant whistle of a locomotive, as it slowly approaches with detached menace.
toot toooooooooot
They’re coming to round up the survivors, you think as you squint into the hazy distance. The end is near. Best hope that it’s merciful when it comes. Surely this must be the onset of madness, brought on by impending extinction. The stench of carnage gives way to the comforting scent of… cheese pizza? Ice cream sundaes? Funnel cake? Continue reading
Comments Off on Hate Proof: Vengaboys’ “We Like To Party”
Filed under Bad Influences, Don't Know Don't Care, Faint Signals, Idiot's Delight, Late To The Party, Nostalgic Obsessions, Thousand Listen Club, Worst Of All
You must be logged in to post a comment.