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With SlantyOJ’s post of “lack of content” my alter (crowd
controlling) ego is going to get off his butt and rank some
of the shows he’s been at. Structure will be as follows

Name:
(You can figure that out)

Place:

This can set the whole show it depends on weather your looking
for quality or a show but these are the basic types of venues.

CABARET\BAR
e.g. Commodore
Smaller crowd but can pull a big name (Pearl Jam). Acoustics
will vary but your going here for that â??intimateâ?? setting.

THEATER
e.g. Vogue, QE
These are for quality, crowd ainâ??t going to be moshing,
but you want that at a Van Morrison concert. (If he could
remember his own lyrics, it would be nice thoughâ?¦)

GYMNASIUM
e.g. SUB Ballroom, CCC

These just suck, stage is too small for a good setup, acoustics
suck, everyoneâ??s trapped like a sardine. Why have a show
there? Itâ??s cheap.

COLLISEUM
e.g. SkyReach, GM Place
The big names will go here to get the big crowd. Acoustics
can work well, people can get into it, but things can get
ugly. Hint: arranged floor seating at a KORN concert ainâ??t
going to workâ?¦

OPEN
AIR e.g. UBC Thunderbird
This is how to do a show, big crowd, blasting tunes, these
are usually worth your dollar. (Especially if you like puking)

Opening
Act:
These guys are to warm up a crowd, not kill it. While the
crowd is there for a big name, the opening band makes the
night longer than 1 hour show they should have a little
effort into it.

Best
Line of the Night:

This can be from anybody, but it gives a good opening for
telling the theme of the show.

Crowd
Interaction:
I paid money to come see this, at least you could say â??helloâ??

Music
Quality:
â??The bassist was good but were the other 5 guys playing?â??

Show
Performance:
If I just wanted to hear the song, Iâ??d buy the CD (or Napster
it in other cases).

Crowd
Performance:
As Kid Rock puts in â??Get in the pit and try to love someoneâ??

Was
it worth it?

I shelled out 50 bucks? What was I thinking:?

Overall
Rating:
I wonâ??t steal ODâ??s rating system, but I canâ??t come up with
one on my own, so all I can do is benchmark it against the
greatest all-time Show band in the worldâ?¦
KISS

One
member getâ??s you Paul Stanley. Heâ??s a whiner and a dickhead.
He did write all the songs but considering 99% of them suck,
he gives the lowest ranking.

Two
members and we add Peter Kriss. He paints up like a catâ?¦
what the hell else do I say about that?

Three
members and we include Ace Freely. Bad ass star on his face
and a name like Ace, how did no one else think of that first?

The
whole band. Must have been one hell of a show to get all
four. Why is Gene Simmons last? Cause he is the show, so
few can compare to him that so few will get such a distinguished
reward.

Well
thatâ??s the jist of it. Iâ??ll try to do one a week even if
some are a little from the past.
Stay tuned then for Watchmen on Grouse, my first official
review.

Mad ape den is fun. In mad ape, you say wha you say in 1 or 2 or 3. 4 no rad, is bad.

Translation: Mad Ape den is fun. In Mad Ape, you say what you want in words of three letters or less. Four letters is no good.

Inspired by the wonderful folks at GeekLife we have decided to post articles written in ‘mad ape den’ style. The history of mad ape has eluded us but we have a crack team of 4 teenagers and their dog scouring the world in their van (“the Mystery Machine”) to find out more. (Actually, we were sent an answer to this question, but it somehow got lost at the bottom of a bottle of gin.) Articles written in ‘mad ape den’ style use words of 3 letters or less, no abbreviations, mis-spellings or shorthand should be used. However, we have taken a few liberties on occasion, please forgive us.

Our mad apes:

For more mad apes, check out Mad Ape Den

The following is a synopsis of the movie “American
Beatuy” done in Mad Ape Den
style.

A man is sad. His job is not fun, he has not had sex with his Mrs., so for now
he rub his own rod. If he not do job, he sit and do pot and it will be ok.

The man has a Mrs. and she has a big job. She try a lot at her job. She ask
the man not to be odd at a big din din, but the man see an odd boy and the man
and the odd boy go and do pot. The Mrs. now go do new man, the sex is rad for
her, she is a new gal. The Mrs. and the new man go to eat. Her old man is at
his new job and he see Mrs. and new man but it is ok, he is not sad.

The man has a kid who is odd, she go with odd boy who use TV
and pot for fun.

The dad of the odd boy spy on him, see boy bj man, but we see boy and man do
pot. The dad of the odd boy say the odd boy is gay, he hit his odd son. Odd
boy say bye-bye to his mom and go to see his gal. The dad now cry, go and hug
the man, the dad is gay the man is not, it is bad.

The man is hot for a gal who has wee tit. She ask him to do her but, it is her
1st try at sex so he say no. Now he is ok, but a wet gay man use a gun to do
him in. The son of the gay man see the sad man is now ok. We cry, it is rad!

To get rad gal, you say: “Hi, I’m Dan”
She say: “Hey.”
You say: “You are the gal for me. I had a lot of gin. Can I sit? I see you in
rad top, it is not bad. You got big tit”
She say: “You not all bad, go to bed now? Get ‘man’ in my ‘cat’, my box is hot
for you”

You say: “I not got an apt. We go to see my mom and dad.”
She say “I not go, too bad for you”.
She hit you. You cry.
She say “I am bad. I get you sad. I do you now to get you to not cry.”

We all say “Dan you are the man!”

***Disclaimer*** This particular "Dave Does" will have no
meaning if you are unfortunate enough to know the folks here at Slanty.Net.
However, I’m hoping that ya’ll will take the time to read this little article
and laugh at it, cause it’s all true by God!

Enough of that warning crap. On with the Willy-Nilly, the Hocus-Pocus, the
Humpty-Dumpty, the dope shit homey. Word. Yes in diddeley deedeley is time for
yet another in the "Dave Does" series. First though, as per usual,
a quick peek into the dim dark world that is my mind, and a brief explanation
of why this and why now? Really there’s no reason. The fact is, it’s just another
step in Slanty.Net’s eventual world domination. First Tamagotchi, then Hello
Kitty, then Pokemon, then the world!!! And as such I present to you…..

Damn straight!

Ever wonder what it would be like if we here at Slanty.Net were to start up
our own Tamagotchi company? First off, the thing would be called Slantygotchiâ?¢
(damn I love that â?¢ action, protects my ass from the ravages of the long arm
of tha law! Fight the man!). Thirdly, the suckers wouldn’t come with the normal
"feed", "play", "rest", and "masturbate"
or other equally boring buttons. Listen up kids, these Slantygotchiâ?¢ would be
interactive, implacable, and inadmissable in a court of law (remember: fight
the man!). And point B, each would be different, with different actions and
reactions depending on what buttons you push. Instead of feeding your little
scary creature from the nether regions of space, you kids will be able to help
2D get some action with a chick, or make OJ drink himself under the table (like
he needs extra incentive, sheesh!). And so, on to the first , the flagship…
BADABOOM!!

24601gotchi

Our basic model! This one’s a beaut kids. Guaranteed to satisfy (according
to Jody anyway). When you first start up 24601gotchi, you’re presented with
a blank palatte in which you can create whatever computer madness you want.
You too can speak in an alternate language comprehensible only to computer geeks.
Banter about the postives and negatives of embedding a link in an object, and
whether tis nobler to surf the net on your NT dual processor server or set a
firewall up on your Linux 486 box. Cookies are now to be loathed and feared
and eventually understood, not stolen and gobbled and eventually enjoyed. A
Perl necklace? Don’t follow you. A Gnuplot? Why not? Imagine the fun! And we’re
not even at the weekend yet. Cause come Friday evening it’s time to break out
the most disgusting alchoholic drinks and scull! Imagine, after having only
two inferno vodka caesars your little Slantygotchiâ?¢ will break out into a red
rash, and tell you it’s time for bed by pulling his hood over his head. And
that’s the end of him until the next morning, when the fun begins all over again!!

OJgotchi

Possibly our most fun model! This baby presents you with all sorts
of options. Wanna feed him? Watch his drink a Gin and Tonic. Wanna put him to
bed? Watch him drink a six pack of beer. Wanna watch him to a body shot offa
Russian hooker in Istanbul on Saint Paddy’s day? We got a button for that too!!
The party quite literally never stops with OJgotchi. From the moment you get
this one out of the package it’s a non-stop alchoholic binge until there’s nothing
left. Ahhhh the good times! Fun for the kids too.

ODgotchi

Bored of being able to figure out what it is your little Slantygotchiâ?¢’s gonna
do? Want a little more excitement in your little guy’s life? Well do we have
the deal for you! ODgotchi is so unpredictable even we don’t know what the hell
he’s gonna do. Our best AI experts spent months trying to remove any trace of
intelligence from this little package. Watch as one moment he’s happily drinking
a beer in a bar and the next he’s at his local branch of TD demanding that they
close his account as they’re a bunch of free-basing gimboids. Just get him settled
into a nice life with a degree and WHAAMMO, he’s off to Australia. Sexual deviancy?
ODgotchi’s got that too. It’s just sheep as far as we know but who knows what’s
around the next corner? It sure as hell isn’t us, that’s for damn sure.

Bardgotchi

Want to know what it’s like to have led a near perfect life? Wanna
have a bright and promising future ahead of you, with beautiful women, high
salaries, and Vietnamese hookers (we’re not sure about that last one, but we’re
hoping). Well this Slantygotchiâ?¢ is for you. To date we’ve been testing Bardgotchi
for months and as yet he has yet to make a mistake. We tossed him into juvenile
detention and the little bugger got his law degree by correspondence. Give him
a spinal trauma, put him in a wheelchair, and watch him pull a Rick Hansen.
Quite frankly Bardgotchi had a little trouble getting past our legal department
cause the lawyers thought he would depress everybody by reminding them how inadequate
they are. But we have faith in you! And we’re protected by the power of â?¢, so
if you throw yourself off of a bridge we really don’t care!! Happy swimming
fish boy!

Grumpygotchi

Feeling happy about yourself? Ennoying your work? Feeling like
you’ve got a grip on the world? Sick of it? Well have we got the Slantygotchiâ?¢
for you! Grumpygotchi is guaranteed to do everything possible to bring you down:

"Hello Grumpygotchi, how are you today?"

"Ugh, piss off."

And every third or so time he won’t even bother with the "piss
off." Watch as Grumpygotchi retreats to his cave to drink beer, smoke,
and watch wrestling, only emerging every fortnight to forage for food among
the local fast-food vendors. Watch him as he arrives at a party late, and then
proceeds to watch hockey for the duration!! Watch as Grumpygotchi amazes with
his vast repository of trivial knowledge. Occationally, Grumpygotchi will emerge
from his den to play volleyball. It is at these times that he shines, almost
interacting with others on a normal level. Can’t get his serve in though.

2Dgotchi

Are you a lonely loser with no social skills at all? Tired of
being shunned by the opposite sex? Do you watch the Rosie O’Donnell show? Well,
2Dgotchi won’t be able to help you with any of those things, but damn is he
good for a laugh. Be amazed as your 2Dgotchi wades into the world of the opposite
sex, skewering helpless females left right and center, taking them home to have
his way with them. Or something like that. Laugh until you have tears in your
eyes as 2Dgotchi attempts to keep everything in his life striaght, often slipping
up in very embarrasing ways. Buy a house! Why not? Contemplate the eternal dichotomy
that is life… or something

Warning: this Slantygotchiâ?¢ is recommended for people over
18 years of age only

Aussiegotchi

Ready for a voyage Down Under? Ready to don your hockey gear and
roam the wasteland in search of fuel? Then you’re ready for Aussiegotchi, our
most foreign Slantygotchiâ?¢. Watch as Aussiegotchi sharpens his knifes and cleans
his guns. The search for fuel is only interrupted by a sporadic need to eat.
Toilets flush the wrong way. Common household vegetables become incomprehensible
mumbo-jumbo (capsicum?). Truly an awesome predatory machine, the Aussiegotchi
is to be respected and feared. Upon occasion the Aussiegotchi may attempt to
take you out drinking. This may result in your flat on your back on the busiest
street in Vancouver, and puking in your trash bin. Be forewarned, the Aussiegotchi
is not for the faint of heart.

Warning: this Slantygotchiâ?¢ is not recommended for pansy ass
wimps.

Finngotchi

Who?

Thoughts generated
on the fly, kinda like some CGI

Well ya’ll, I guess if you’re reading this then you’re actually curious as
to the events of my little trip. I’m touched. I’ll try not to let you down but
experience has shown that I probably will so get ready. So grab yourself some
beers, put on some tunes (I recommend Ministry, gets the blood flowing), and
prepare for a rip-roaring, mind-blowing, international tale of intrigue, guerilla
warfare, monster trucks, and Gabbo Gabbo GABBO!!!!

..or sumpin ..

My story
begins on a regular old Saturday afternoon, ordinary except that I flew to Honolulu.
Uneventful, won’t bore you with details. After spending a night in an airport
hotel (which I’ve never actually done before, I wasn’t disappointed), we hopped
a short commuter flight to Maui, the land of something or other, they didn’t really
translate that bit of info from Hawaiian so I’m not really sure where I was. Anyhoo,
the only sore point of the introductory part of our journey was that we had to
lug our damn bikes all over various airports and while they’re damn light, they’re
awkward as all get-out.

First thing
to note about Hawaii is the language. I think a federal grant is in order to try
and get either some apostrophes, or some consonants over there. Aiea is the name
of a town there. How do you pronounce that? My favourite was something like Pioua’a,
like putting the apostrophe in at the last moment somehow makes it pronounceable.
Nice try but I don’t buy it.

Let me just give
you a brief description of this tropical paradise in which I found myself. The
island of Maui consists of two volcanos, one on each end of the island, which
got so big that the bottom of them touched and formed most of the livable section
of the island. These are BIG mountains, West Maui is around 5,000 feet, and Haleakala
is around 10,000 feet above sea-level, or roughly 2 and a half times taller than
our friendly coastal mounts here in Vancouver. From the bottom of the sea to the
top it’s the third largest mountain in the world, after the two peaks on the big
island of Hawaii. Now, what we find living on this beautiful little volcanic death
trap (Mona Loa on the neighboring island has been spewing lava for like 10 years,
who’s to say Maui’s not next) is an interesting assortment of varied people.

The tourists are all either newly-wed or nearly-dead. No joke folks, all of them are like this, and they comprise probably 90% of the population at any given time. The other 10% are locals who have smoked too much pot to have a really good grasp of what’s going on around them. The other astonishing thing there is that I’d say a good healthy 30-40% of the people are obese. I don’t mean fat I mean O-B-E-S-E. Not that this would normally be a problem but Hawaii is a hot climate and people tend to be rather scantily clad. Now imagine this particular crowd of people, and then imagine 300 bran eatin, carrot juice drinkin, 0.5% body fat, could run your sorry ass into the ground, triathletes being unleashed to clog up the highways with their mad biking/running ways, and fill the ocean with their mad swimming. You certainly saw some interesting looks being cast about, it was sorta like I’d imagine would happen if aliens landed and started swimming across the Pacific. This was the sort of culture barrier we’re looking at here. Anyways, the first week went quickly, training in some form or another every morning. Some tennis in the afternoon, followed by some touring, some eatin, some drinkin, and so on. Vacation stuff … except for the 40km bike rides .. too bad that isn’t standard cause some of those folks could sure sure use it. The week passes quickly, and the Saturday arrives …..

He arrives
at the staring beach. All around him are people who obviously have been training
for a much longer amount of time. Even in the vague predawn light he can see their
rib-cages, standing out in a stark contrast to the sinewy muscles above. The other
competitors stretch, consume energy-filled granola bars, discuss the proper balance
between front and back gear ratios on their bikes. Dave gazes around in wonderment
and weighs his odds of surviving this event, and tries to remember if he has a
back gear on his bike. Physics says he must for the bike to go forward, but he
really hasn’t tested this theory much yet, so he hopes it works out. Suddenly
a hush falls over the speedo-clad crowd, and he notices the organiser of the event,
starting gun in hand, stride to the water’s edge. Dave is momentarily confused
by the size of the gun, it seems a bit large just to start the race but hey, this
is America, he’s surprised they didn’t bring out a tank to start the damn race.
He also wonders at the mask the organiser is wearing, but again, his knowledge
of triathlons is weak, this could be standard procedure. Ane then the masked man
speaks:

The real world, however, sucks donkeys…..

In the real world, the race was canceled two days before the event was supposed
to occur. No joke, we flew 2000 miles for a race that was canceled only two days
before. And we weren’t the worst by far. One girl had come from South Africa for
the race. Apparently, and reports are varied regarding the cancellation, the race
director was unable to supply adequate funds to cover the overtime costs for the
police on the course. Since there were to be no police there would be no race.
The county got an injunction stopping the whole affair, and the race was off.
Now, according to the race director, he only paid $1700 last year, and the same
amount of coverage this year was going to cost $30,000. As well, even though he
changed the route so the cost would only be $14,000, the county didn’t give him
adequate time to raise the funds. The county says that he has a history of being
delinquent on his payments, and that he knew a year in advance that this was coming
and for the life of them the county can’t figure out why he left it so late. Bunch
o’ crap if you ask me. Got time on your hands and you don’t believe me (and that
wouldn’t surprise me, you’re a bunch of shifty ones, shifty I say), check out
the news story here.
Anyhoo, a
large bunch of triathletes ended up meeting the day before and organising a sort
of impromptu race. Nothing official, just a bunch of people “training together”
with no outside monitoring. They couldn’t stop us from using the county roads
for running or biking, and they couldn’t stop us from swimming in the ocean …
could they?

Ahhhh innocence (read: stupidity). It’s the States, they’re mighty clever down there when it comes to lowering the long arm of the law. They figured that something like this might be tried and they did they’re best to make it difficult. They figured out that to get into and out of the ocean you have to use public beaches (all beaches in Maui are public, like Australia I hear). And the beaches don’t open until 7:00am. Not a problem for most normal humans, but these triathletes are a nutty bunch, and since some of them would be going for over twelve hours in the heat of the day this was a severe annoyance, as they wanted to start at 5:30am. So, probably for the first and last time ever on Maui, Polo Beach (the starting and ending point for the race) was kept closed until 7:00 by EIGHT police cars. No joke, what do they think triathletes are a rowdy bunch? I thinking running far far away is more of their forte. Mebbe I’m wrong though, it’s happened before.

The police form a wall with their shields and slowly move forward, swingin they’re batons forcefully. Behind them several other officers begin to fire tear gasover the line. Most of the triathletes scatter quickly but Dave stands firm, fist in the air, defiant as the line of police in riot gear crashes around him. In the chaos all the press can see is his fist, a rock in the sea of blue uniforms and yellow gas. Then it all clears, the line has passed on but Dave remains. Then the amoured cars roll in…

Anyways,
after the cops let is into the park we proceeded to get on with a bit of exercise.
Tom and I were pretty much the only ones doing the Olympic distance (1.5k swim,
40k bike, 10k run) most others were doing longer distances. So we went by ourselves
through the course, which had been laid out in a pamphlet that had been mailed
to us. I finished in 2 hours and 49 minutes, which was 7 minutes faster than Tom
, which I think is all that matters. After that, we settled down for two days,
and headed back on Sunday night. Took 15 hours to get home and the first call
I get is from Dan. Shoulda stayed in Maui….

As he settles in on the flight home, a stewardess approaches him.

“A couple of the girls and I wanted to know if you’ve ever heard of the mile
high club.”

“Sure, I’m a card carrying member.”

“We thought you might be. You know, membership has its privileges…”

“So I’ve heard, so I’ve heard. Let me finish this Creme Brulee and 1956 Chateauneuf
Du Pape and I’ll be right with you ladies…”