26 thoughts on “Open Mic Nite At KUR”

  2. I’m a KUR guy
    And Gail has just walked by
    And she has given me the eye
    But I pretend to be shy
    Cause I’m a KUR guy
    (You know what I mean? You know what I mean?)
    So I want you to know why, why, why
    You make me cry, cry, cry
    ‘Cause you wanna try, try, try
    Some stupid cease and desist on me
    They’re drinking lighter (Berger Kahn Law Corporation)
    They’re full of water
    I hear them say:
    “Let’s sue…”
    They’re playing tennis
    They’re butts are tighter
    What could be whiter?
    Hey?
    Your athletic approach has a lot of appeal
    The girl is responding to your little deal
    She’s modern ‘n empty ‘n totally vain
    But beauty, of course, can feel no pain

    followed by 15 minute instrumental sax solo of Dumb All Over

    Yowser!

  3. So, Barry, Magic Fingers, & SOFA – deeply engaged in eFf-Zee tinged conversation – wlak past a bar…
    Hey, it COULD happen….

  4. So, Barry, Magic Fingers, & SOFA – deeply engaged in eFf-Zee tinged conversation – walk past a bar…
    Hey, it COULD happen….

  5. Shit!
    So much for my stand-up…
    Guess I’ll just sit down.
    Uhm, could I get some flooring to put under me, please?

  6. Hm, friday night…. let’s take a look back: getting up early in the morning, going to a doctor, waiting a bit (then giving blood & piss :-) ), some angry old ladies there…
    Than home for breakfast, to the university, not-meeting (meating?… no-no!) a girl I wanted to, then a quick dinner alone (a bit late). Than back to my previous workplace where I do not work anymore (and worked a bit :-) ), there I’ve happily found some internet-connection, though my machine was moved to another room, so I had to reconnect each wire again; meanwhile listenning to an unofficial ZPZ-recording (Budapest) – and suddenly some Dido.
    After this I went to the meeting (meating?) of The Hungarian Frank Zappa Association (Frank Zappa Café), eating bean-soup, talking about not-really-official FZ-releases from Kuvait (like a casette of You Are What You Is with a wrong track-order). Meanwhile thinking about the possibilities of sharing audience recordings somewhere in the secret corner of the net. (I’m listenning to Wazoo and Imaginary Diseases a lot, nowadays. Oh yes: the official ones.)
    And right now (midnight!!!) I’m gioing to watch a norwegian film on TV (Songs from the Kitchen – (Salmer fra kjokkenet))
    :-)

  8. Got a little cold
    Feel a little old
    Friday night
    Don’t feel right
    Kids are up
    Dad is down
    But I write this without frown
    Just glad to have you guys around

    urbangraffito, I’ll fade this into
    Watermelon in Easter Hay.
    Feels right.

  9. *AT LAST!*

    Finally, the moment we’ve all been waiting for –
    The one & only Karmapectate is here! :

    http://ca.youtube.com/watch?v=80AsAiP7T8k

    The Central Scrutinizer lives!
    But now it’s a cute girl … who unfortunately doesn’t get any visuals.

    If the first 1&1/2 minutes irks you – assuming you can stick it out that far – you should probably just quit while you’re ahead.
    After that, it gets even SNARKIER.

    The Karmapectate Zone is for loading & unloading only.
    Smile: Karmapectate loves you!
    Vote Karmapectate in 2008 – FTW!
    Are we having Karmapectate yet?
    The Karmapectate shall inherit the Earth.

    (ad lib, ad nausaeum)

  10. eggs fly past him like missiles & each one hits the kitchen wall with a series of dull thuds & burst like fourth of July explosions of yolks & whites & shells & his youngest child knocks over the diaper pail & starts to toss shit-smeared diapers down the hallway & in the living room the television is blaring while upstairs his two daughters fight over use of the bathroom in the kitchen the stove buzzer is buzzing & the youngest is pissing on his leg & rushing into the living room where his wife is stretched out on the maroon sofa chewing chocolate covered cashews & working through her third postpartum depression in twelve years watching The Price Is Right & he tells her this house is a fucking madhouse & if he doesn’t get out she won’t be the only one going insane & grabbing his saxophone & car keys & coat he is out the door & closes it just as the last of the dozen eggs comes whizzing toward his third eye

  11. at noon the sun at its highest peak beats down & it’s hot as hellfire & the interior of his car is twenty degrees hotter & of course the air conditioner doesn’t work

  12. & between the wiper blade & the windshield is another $20 parking ticket which he reaches out & grabs & tosses in the backseat with the rest of his unpaid tickets he cannot pay because he hasn’t worked in months & his Employment Insurance is being cut off & the gas tank reads almost empty so he slips the cassette of Absolutely Free into the tape deck & he pulls out into traffic anyway & the car sounds like a dying dog the way it chokes & coughs & sputters up the avenue while black smoke spews large clouds out of the exhaust pipe & turning the next corner onto a main drag he wonders why he hasn’t considered suicide yet & thinks how easy it would be to just drive off a cliff or something yet worries about not getting killed & winding up an invalid stuck in that loony bin he sometimes refers to as home

  13. after lighting a cigarette the match drops down the front of his shirt & with one hand on the steering wheel & one eye on the road he uses his other hand to pat out the brushfire on his chest but only succeeds in embedding the

  14. sizzling sulfur head deeper into his chest & he slams on the brakes just centimetres from rear ending a shitty little Honda stopped at a red light & when the light finally does turn green his car stalls & turning the ignition key again & again the engine makes a sound like some sick Tibetan chant & it’s obvious not even the Dali Lama will be able to reincarnate this rusting piece-of-shit Ford any time soon & behind him car horns begin to blow & people start to shout & a group of teenagers on the sidewalk are laughing all this in & grinding the ignition one last time he realizes the car’s out of gas & he’s out of patience & puts the car into park & pulling out his keys he steps out & looks at the block-long line of vehicles & all the shaking fists & waving middle fingers & then gives them all the royal salute & closing his eyes he spins around asking for a sign any sign that’ll keep him from going completely bonkers & when he opens his eyes he sees a sign flashing OPEN MIC AT KUR & grabs his saxophone & makes his way towards it.

  15. … between Friday night
    and Saturday morning
    I tried to digest
    the Thai food
    I ate …

    (to be continued)

  16. (back to reality urbangraffito)

    … between Friday night
    and Saturday morning
    I tried to digest
    the Thai food
    I ate …

    (to be continued)

  17. [quote comment=”17571″](back to reality urbangraffito)

    … between Friday night
    and Saturday morning
    I tried to digest
    the Thai food
    I ate …

    (to be continued)[/quote]

    Hmmmmmm….Thai food….

  19. [quote comment=”17557″]I’m a KUR guy
    And Gail has just walked by
    And she has given me the eye
    But I pretend to be shy
    Cause I’m a KUR guy
    (You know what I mean? You know what I mean?)
    So I want you to know why, why, why
    You make me cry, cry, cry
    ‘Cause you wanna try, try, try
    Some stupid cease and desist on me
    They’re drinking lighter (Berger Kahn Law Corporation)
    They’re full of water
    I hear them say:
    “Let’s sue…”
    They’re playing tennis
    They’re butts are tighter
    What could be whiter?
    Hey?
    Your athletic approach has a lot of appeal
    The girl is responding to your little deal
    She’s modern ‘n empty ‘n totally vain
    But beauty, of course, can feel no pain

    followed by 15 minute instrumental sax solo of Dumb All Over

    Yowser![/quote]

    She was a very gorgeous babe in the ’60s, one the best,in fact(I can tell why Frank liked her).. but now?!
    I respect her, but she’s going OTT with her sueing practices!!

  20. I just got a good idea for a Zappa-esque song title:

    ‘Why Do White Folks Like Litigation So Much’ (maybe Ike, Ray or Napi could sing it?)

    Can someone write me the lyrics?!

  23. [quote comment=”17569″]sizzling sulfur head deeper into his chest & he slams on the brakes just centimetres from rear ending a shitty little Honda stopped at a red light & when the light finally does turn green his car stalls & turning the ignition key again & again the engine makes a sound like some sick Tibetan chant & it’s obvious not even the Dali Lama will be able to reincarnate this rusting piece-of-shit Ford any time soon & behind him car horns begin to blow & people start to shout & a group of teenagers on the sidewalk are laughing all this in & grinding the ignition one last time he realizes the car’s out of gas & he’s out of patience & puts the car into park & pulling out his keys he steps out & looks at the block-long line of vehicles & all the shaking fists & waving middle fingers & then gives them all the royal salute & closing his eyes he spins around asking for a sign any sign that’ll keep him from going completely bonkers & when he opens his eyes he sees a sign flashing OPEN MIC AT KUR & grabs his saxophone & makes his way towards it.[/quote]

    Most Enjoyable, urbang! After I finished reading, I put on my black beret from “Beat the Boots” and snapped my fingers over & over.

  24. Three guys walk into a bar…open mic nite inspired by my post, and I missed it???

    I must be gettin’ old.

    THAT’ll never sell a dvd, will it?

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