Rollins Spoken Word

I admit it. I'm a junkie. Henry Rollins spoken word has helped me get through a lot of garbage. He's got a very astute way of looking at things and notices quite a lot of things that the average person might overlook. He's not your average spoken word artist... reciting crappy poetry and acting all metaphysical. He tells stories of his life, things he's noticed from day to day, the occasional short story (funny as hell,) and generally anything that springs into his mind. A lot of the time you're not sure if it's stand-up comedy or spoken word...fine with me.

There are quite a few releases of his s.w. available. The main releases are listed in the tag below and most are available on CD and some on cassette. Big Ugly Mouth through Human Butt are available in a box set called Deep Throat, which includes a special booklet for the set.

Spoken Word Discography


When I saw Rollins live:

I've seen Rollins speak live six times. The last several times have been highlighted by the performance itself, but the first two times were ordeals. What follows are the stories from performances in:

Manchester, England UK (93 January)
Philadelphia, PA USA (96 October)
Durham, NC USA (97 September)
Washington, DC USA (98 October)
Baltimore, MD USA (99 January)
Carrboro, NC USA (99 January)

Also included are two brief stories of seeing the Rollins Band live:

Washington, DC USA (old 9:30 Club) (93 October)
Washington, DC USA (new 9:30 Club) (97 June)

Here's what I went through to see Rollins the first time around in Manchester.

I went away to school in England for a year. Pretty cool thing. I learned a lot. Saw a few cool shows. Then I heard Rollins was doing a spoken word tour. I got the tour list and started checking the maps. The closest one was Manchester Polytechnic...on a Sunday. The train and bus schedules were freaky, so I ended up leaving at noon, stopping off in Preston for a couple of hours (with all the shops closed,) and getting to Manchester at around 4. The show started at 8. Let me just mention that there is usually NOTHING open in most places around the world on a Sunday. England...is the epitomy. So I cooled out until I found the University and got in line to get tickets. Once I got one, I found out that the doors opened at 8... the show was at 9. I was going to miss the 10:00 bus... and have to catch one at around 1.00 am. So I was in kind of a foul mood after that... So I waited outside the doors while everyone else in the crowd went upstairs to get as tanked as possible. They opened the doors and I went in. I looked around. Apart from one member of the staff, there was one person in the audience... a guy sitting alone all the way in the back. I walked over to check out the stage... nothing big. A mic stand. It's a talking show, remember? Still, I'd never been to one before. Not even a poetry reading. So I turned to sit down and looked at the guy again. I knew this guy. That was him. That was Rollins.

I've always maintained the opinion that I don't want to talk to anyone unless I really have anything to say. As such, I have very little urge to meet famous people since I don't have any idea what I'd say to them. I don't collect autographs, nor do I understand them. I still do the "HEY! LOOK! IT'S [fill in name of famous guy or chick here] RIGHT OVER THERE! COOL!" thing, but it doesn't go much further than that. I waved slightly and sat down. I thought about the situation.
(Ok, about ten feet away from you is the guy YOU came to see. Now, you're going through a lot of shit to do this, so maybe you really do think he's pretty cool. He's also one of the few people in this business that you actually respect...right up there with Robert Fripp, Brian Eno, and Frank Zappa. What are you going to do about it?)
I said fuck it, swallowed my pride, got up, turned around, walked over, and THEN thought I should have something to say. It went something like this:

"Hey..." - ME

"Whaddaya need?" - ROLLINS

"uuhhhh, well.... I'm an American, and I've been over here for a while and I was wondering what's up in the U.S." DOH! Think of something STUPID to say now, why don't you?

"Same as it's always been. Crime. Crack in the streets. People doing stupid shit to one another...."

"Uh... I come from the suburbs... my life's pretty tame, actually." That's more like it... try to drag it a little closer to the evolutionary scale now... "Well, actually, the reason I came over here..."

"Yeah..."

"...was because I just wanted to say that I really respect what you do. I got that album you put out, Sweatbox..."

"Oh...yeah." He looked slightly confused, like this had never happened to him before.

"It was just great stuff. I liked it a whole lot. So that's it. Thanks for coming." Ok, you said it. Sit down and behave like a good kid.

"Ok...sure."

So I sat my ass down and cooled it for another hour 'til the show went on. I guess he was a bit surprised I'd not asked for an autograph. Later in the show, he commented about how someone had asked for one and how he never really understood the signature thing despite the fact that he was into it, too. He opened the show talking about his first time in Manchester, a story that later ended up on Get in the Van.

He also talked about a talking show put on in L.A.... the same one that got taped for the video Talking from the Box. He produced the show as well as having performed at it. At some point, somebody came up to him and asked if he could get a backstage pass for Morrissey. Rollins thought the assistant was joking with Rollins distaste for the former lead singer of the Smiths and told him to fuck off... a little while later he looked out into the audience and saw: it really was Morrissey. The Mo-man himself!

Later, during the show, he did this little bit where he talked about the riots in L.A. He talked about how he hit the streets to go check out the carnage. There was a record store (a chain store) that was being protected...rather pathetically, actually...by two unarmed security guards. "All right, you cement. Stay there!" So anyway, the looters started to close in on the record store. The rent-a-cops, in a wild mood of creativity, came over to the group of on-lookers (of which Rollins was a part) and put forth the proposition that they were going to deputize the group in order to 'protect the neighborhood.' Rollins, being "more cynical than your average stadium full of people" came up with the following argument against it:

"Ok...so what you're saying is you want me to take a rock in the face for Paula Abdul. Now, ok, let me get this right. I'm supposed to take a 2"x4" across my chest for Bono..."

At this point, Rollins paused to explain to the British audience the cultural differences of digital insults on either side of the Atlantic. The United States has its all-too-familiar method: clenching the fist with the exception of the single longest digit in the center of the hand - the eternal middle finger. In Britain, this is generally understood, but it's more characteristic to use both the middle and index fingers (a reversal of the peace sign...ironically, all the hippies and peaceniks were/are just flipping themselves off.)

He continued... "I'm supposed to stand in front of a huge piece of plate glass and try and defend it from five gnarly youths who want to go right over my head...for Morrissey."

It was at this point where Rollins, rather inexplicably on the video without the knowledge of this little story, flipped off Morrissey where he sat in the audience, all the while screaming "FUCK YOU! FUCK YOU! FUCK YOU! FUCK YOU! FUCK YOU!" The audience, froze, turned to look straight at the Mo-Man, laughed, clammed up, and turned quickly back to face the stage. This occurred during the first ten or fifteen minutes of his talk. He had to sit and live with this insult for another hour or so. Ouch... But if you watch the video and notice the expression on his face, he doesn't really seem to be in so light a mood for several seconds.

The rest of the show was extremely good. He wound it up pretty much the same way he does on the video... talking about the murder of Joe Cole. The saga had gone through some more shit by that point. He'd finally convinced the police that it was not a drug deal gone bad...that only took them about a year. He'd had to put up with a lot of garbage over it and seemed just slightly bitter over the whole thing. But he took it as a way to grow stronger.

After the show ended, I knew that I'd missed my bus. No problem there. But I also knew that the next two or three hours was going to suck a whole lot for several reasons. First off, I knew no one in this town and everything was closed down. Second, the stomach ache I had developed from not eating much that day wasn't going to improve my situation any. Third, it was the tail end of January, so the weather was definitely not on my side. I bought a T-Shirt for 10 quid inside and then another outside for 5 quid, not only because I wanted everyone to see how cool I thought Rollins was, but because I was going to need some extra layers on me to keep from freezing. I then humped out to the bus station knowing that there wouldn't be an enclosed room to wait in,

So I sat on the ground for a while, freezing my ass off while reading the book I picked up at the show. I noticed a car drive past a few times, but more or less disregarded it because it was a cab. About half an hour into my wait, a guy walks past me and starts talking to me. "Kinda cold to be out here, isn't it?" "Well, I'm waiting for my bus..." He just happens to mention that he's not gay. We bullshit back and forth for a bit, then he asks if I want to go get a tea or something. Sure... I'm freezing, why not. We get into his car (shut up... I know it's stupid, but I'm telling the story here!) and drive about a block away to a walk up tea place. As a matter of fact, no, I'm not too cool with the situation. I don't like being in this guy's car, which happens to be the taxi I saw earlier. But I realize the fact that I am very cold and in a bit of pain, so I want to warm up a bit so that I can at least survive 'til my bus comes. But remember...he's not gay!

The guy had walked up to get the tea while I sat in the car. He starts talking as soon as he gets back in the car, asking me weird questions. Some of them start leading into...of course...sex. I talk about my girlfriend back in the 'states. He asks me if I want to try one of these pills he's got... they'll give me a stiffy that can't be beat. "No...no, sorry. Clean living here. I don't even take aspirin when I've got a headache. Not even novacaine... yup, I'm just a non-pill kinda guy..." Yes, I'm starting to worry here. He backs off for a few minutes. I ask him what he does for a living... just the cab? "Yeah... mostly for gay men." I'm fine... I'm cool. I'm starting to panic inside. He gets down to business while following this latest line. "I'm not gay. I don't have sex with men. But I do like to...satisfy myself while looking at other men, and you're just the type I like. Are you sure you wouldn't like to try one of these pills? I'd drive you back to school."

So I think about it. I could get out of the fucking cold, get a ride back to school a bit earlier than I planned, and not have to deal with the walk back to the Uni once I got back to town. I could also probably pick up a regular trick doing this. I could make money on the side as a rent boy. I could quit school and go live in London, let guys look at me strip and then jerk off to me. Yeah...yeah...this could be it! This could be my life!

"Uh, no, I already paid for the ticket and all and I'd hate for it to go to waste. Uh... no... not really into it. Thanks."

So he took me back to the bus stop and I waited... and waited. The bus was late (of course,) but I got on it grateful that I didn't have to watch some sorry middle-aged guy twist off in front of me, that I wasn't frozen, and that I didn't have anything even resembling an erection thanks to anything that might've been dropped in my tea.


That was the first time around. I went to see the Rollins Band at the old 9:30 Club when I returned stateside on one of the first dates with Melvin Gibbs. This was several months before Weight was released. I bought four tickets and then had a bunch of friends cancel out on me... typical. At the last minute, Mike Sams and friend Kerry from school jumped on the bus. I called up a friend in D.C. to offer her the last ticket.

We got down to D.C. and drove around NW looking for the club. Finally we just parked and started walking. We saw some guy and asked him where the club was... he told us we were totally far away. He gave us directions to the other side of town. Good thing we ran into him! So we got back in the car and followed his directions... right into NE. For those of you who don't know D.C., this isn't funny at all. Let's just say that more often than not, it's a crime to be white in NE and maybe you'll appreciate the humor of it. It ingrained into me the reality that even the people who wear nice clothes and act polite are out to fuck you over...sometimes more than those that wouldn't otherwise hide their intentions.

Finally we got to pretty much where we were before and followed the black clothing and hairspray to the venue. Hooked up with friend Diana and went inside. This was the old 9:30 Club, remember... rather small, rather dank, but a completely legendary location. This is one of the places where the Bad Brains, Black Flag, Foetus, Sonic Youth, Minor Threat, and a ton of acts played over the years. This was the only show I ever saw there before they relocated. The opening band was finishing up by the time we got there. The show was really good... all new music, and none of the old stuff. They kicked much ass and bent a few people out of shape because of the lack of familiar tunes. I was blown away by the song Tired... that really burned into my skull. It was kinda cool. I ran interception for a guy taking pictures for the school paper at GWU and got roughed up a bit. I think some girl started to really attack me for stepping on her toes at one point. I always get my ass kicked at shows. I had a great time though.


The next time I saw Rollins was a lot of fun. Another spoken word deal.

I had been checking the 2.13.61 web site for months to see if there were any shows coming up anytime soon with the same results. Nothing. But then in late September, all of that changed. There were dates coming up... east coast dates. So I checked for the ones closest to me and, go figure, they just happened to all be closer to where I lived not six months before. That's ironic...don'tcha think? So I called up friend Tim in Baltimore and told him and we made plans to hit the show in Philidelphia. I was finally going to get to see Rollins again.

Then I did something silly. I decided to get adventurous and re-model my car by trying to run it underneath a Mercedes-Benz. I got the headlights to aim in several different directions for full road coverage and I also got rid of that nasty little grill thingy up front. I also got to live out a childhood fantasy by being able to crawl in and out of my window since the door wouldn't open anymore. Pretty amazing stuff, really. I think I did a really sweet job on it. So much so that I didn't think I wanted to chance messing up the delicate work by a drive up to Philly. So I told Tim that the trip was probably off.

Then I started working on these pages and got myself into Rollins fever again. I woke up the day of the show and went to work. I called Dimmer from work and convinced him to cancel his plans. Then I called Villanova University to ask when the show started and to reserve tickets. The guy asked me if I was going to fly up today. I told him that I was going to drive it. He seemed to think I was a little weird, but told me that he'd set aside two tickets, but that we had to pick them up by 7:30. So I took off from work early and hopped into the car a little before 1. I got to Baltimore just in time to hit rush hour traffic. After a pleasant half hour to 45 minutes screaming at everyone and everything, I got to Tim's place. We got in the car and headed to Philly immediately. It was around this time that I realized that, once again, I'd forgotten to really eat anything.

We hit Philly about ten minutes before the show was to start. We asked directions from the first two guys we saw. They were really cool and gave us directions... but we got lost anyway. Finally we scared a few coeds into showing us the way and they sent us right to the building we wanted to go. I realized that we were about 25 minutes late in picking up the tickets, but they saved them for us anyway. Good thing, too, since they were unrolling a banner that said "SOLD OUT" on it as we were walking up. I attributed their not selling our tickets to the fact that they'd probably not been taught how to tell time yet. I think I based this on the fact that they hadn't learned to spell yet either, unless there really is a film called the Frightners... but we got in and got to sit waaaay in the back. The first row in this room was about as far from the stage as I had been in the fourth row at the first gig I'd seen in Manchester. This was a big room.

Rollins came on a little late, but I was totally fine with it. The time lag gave Tim and me a chance to check out the crowd. Punkers with mohawks and dreds sitting next to frat-boys with ball caps and J.Crew. Girls with purple hair and shredded army jackets with tights next to blondes wearing college sweats and pearls. A disparate crowd if ever I saw one. Rollins came on soon after 8:00. The first hour kinda dragged a bit. Not extremely captivating. He talked about life in New York and how he had to go out and buy a can opener for the first time in his life. He talked about how buying towels and a futon didn't exactly secure in his mind that he was a real man. He talked about his armpit size apartment and the choices in size of futon. There's king size, which is about the entire floor of the apartment. There's queen size, which would allow for about 10 square feet to move in. Then there's the one Rollins bought: LOSER SIZE.


Great pic, eh! Looks just like Hank!

He went on to talk about people building up walls and how people profited off of such things. So many people lose sight of their goals in life and end up buying into someone else's dream. Or they buy into petty things like hatred, prejudice, racism, sexism... He talked about how people profited off of this weakness and how fear was such a great tool.

Rollins talked for a total of three hours. The first hour was just a warm-up. He kept getting more intense as the night wore on. A few people left just because he talked so long, but each successive thing kept getting better and better. He wrapped the show up with, "Well, I've talked about violence, unrest, diseases,tours, doctors... now it's time to talk about sex. The last person I had sex with was a tall black man." The audience didn't quite know how to react to that one, especially since earlier in the show, Rollins had talked about homosexuals and how, despite the rumors, he was not. So he told the story of how some guy from Elektra records asked him if he thought the band might be interested in doing a song for a one-hit wonder tribute album coming out... namely Funkytown by Lips, Inc. Rollins thought that this was not really a good idea. Then the Elektra guy said, "Well, how 'bout if you do it as a duet...with RuPaul." "Sure. We'll give it a shot." So the band went into the studio and recorded the music. After Ru and Hank had laid down the vocals, Melvin and Theo (acting as co-producers and arrangers) told them to hold on. They told the pair to do something a little crazy and weird in the booth for the song. Ru scribbled out some ideas and they went into the box.

"So, Ru, you got your high heel sneakers?"

"Got 'em baby."

"How about your leather skirt?"

"Right here, sweetie cakes..."

They bantered back and forth on the clothing and acouterments for a bit, then they 'hop' on a motorcycle and head off to Funkytown. Rollins is up front. "Let me just wrap my arms around those big, strong muscles of yours, Henry." "Hey, why don't you just feel this muscle on my leg here?" "Oh, Henry!" Ok... So then they get to Funkytown and start rattling off cities and debating their funkitude. They got through the first take and looked at Theo and Mel. They said it was ok, but that they should kick it out a bit more. So they did it again, a little looser and wilder. The Elektra A&R guys that were there looked a little pale after that one, but the producers said they should try it one more time... just for kicks. This time Ru and Rollins went nuts. They went through the clothing, tossing back and forth innuendo and hints. On the bike, it came close to foreplay. By the time they hit Funkytown, they skipped the cities and went straight for the hotel room. The two started moaning and wailing and making all the sex noises that they knew. The song had been done for a few seconds before they realized it and composed themselves. They looked into the booth and saw that both Theo and Mel were physically exhausted from their take... stopping just short of the post-coital cig. And with that, he called it a night.

We got out of there around 11 pm. Tim then gassed up the car and headed over to Westchester to visit a friend. He told me to stay in the car to make sure it didn't get towed or ripped off or anything... well, he told me to nap. Now this is right outside of Philly, which just happens to be a very crappy, dangerous town. I really didn't get much sleep. We finally got out of there around 12:30 and headed back to Baltimore. We got back to his place around 2 am. I promptly jumped into my wounded car and took off for NC. Living on a bottle of Jolt Cola, some caffeine-laden fat burner pills and multi-vitamins that I scored from Tim, plus the sheer adrenalin of the day and night, I hit the road in hopes of being able to make it home in one piece. Stopping only once for a quick gas up of the car and a pit stop of the first kind, I roared back home. I nearly got pigged in Richmond, VA for speeding, but luckily I saw him first and he ended up getting the guy behind me instead. That fed the adrenalin a bit more... any near miss does. By 6:45 I'd started on the last leg of the trip that took me off the interstate and all the way back home... and I was nodding off involuntarily. I drifted into the other lane several times... not a great thing when the other lane has traffic coming straight at you. But I finally made it in the door at 7:10. I jumped in the shower to rinse 900 miles worth of road sweat off before leaving for work at 8:00 am. I worked a nine hour shift that day and looked about three years older. But I felt great by that night and stayed up 'til about 10 pm. Lots of fun.


Next show I saw was Rollins Band on the Come In and Burn tour. Oddly enough, the show was the same night as the fight where Mike decided to decorate Evander's ear in June of 1997. This was the first time I'd been to the new 9:30 Club on V Street. Again, the show was with Tim. I was excited to see the band. In the near four years it had been since I'd seen them, the band had played plenty more shows and Melvin had had a lot more time to fall into place. They would also be playing old songs this tour as it was the 10th Anniversary of the band.

The show started with a strange audio bit of a guy talking: some strange instructional thing on speech or dance... I can't quite recall. I do remember a lot of people being amused despite their confusion at it. When the band came out, the room came alive. A fair bit of theater when Henry himself walked out... he seemed like he was walking carefully or over-dramatically to the center stage where monitors had been placed. When they all started playing, though, the floor began to swim with bodies moving and lights reflecting off of and around them. I watched from the safety of the balcony for a while, but then went down to the floor. I fought my way forward to somewhere between Melvin and Henry, realizing that I'd wasted my time by staying up on the balcony. You shouldn't be a spectator at a live show... with music this heavy and physical, you have to get down on the floor and become a part of it.

The show went far too quickly, but I welcomed hearing songs from the End of Silence and Lifetime. The new songs sounded great live. Though I was upset at not having heard Gun in Mouth Blues live, I took it all as another incredible show. Tim and I both came off the floor covered in sweat and smiling.


The next show I saw was at Duke University (Durham, NC - 9/97) with my roomie Jen, brother Tim, and a girl in whom I was interested at the time. Since this was only about 30 miles from where I lived at the time, Tim had more of an adventure than I did: he drove down for the show and left immediately afterwards like the road warrior he is. Of course he pointed out to me that I had a hell of an acid test by taking a girl to see Hank. I didn't really see what he meant until he pointed out she didn't look like the type that would be into that kind of show. I naively thought everyone would be into seeing something that cool. Anyway, he proved very correct in his assumption. She didn't really care to speak to me much after that. Oh well.


A year later in October of 1998, I saw him at the 9:30 Club (again). Yes, with Tim. This time, we brought along Mike Taylor, an old friend and Tim's on and off roomie. We were all a bit astouned at the $20 price tag... usually it's pretty cheap if not free. Once we got in, I realized how popular Hank was getting for these performances. The place was packed with the floor covered in chairs and the balconies teeming with people. We grabbed a space on the right hand side and laughed our asses off for nearly three hours. He talked about his vacation to Africa, some groupie stories from Australia, his latest acting adventures, and some guy he met on a plane to whom he referred as Power Man. Fun stuff. It was Mike's first exposure to Rollins and while I think he enjoyed it, he certainly didn't think it was worth $20.

Tim and I were supposed to see him several days later when he was scheduled to appear at Johns Hopkins University as part of a free series of talks they'd organized; however, there were schedule conflicts and Rollins ended up speaking in Ohio or Alaska... or somewhere in between.


Henry did a few more dates on the east coast to start 1999. Tim (are you noticing a pattern yet?) informed me that he would be playing the Senator, an old style movie house that is somewhat legendary in Bawlmore for its decor and choice of engagements. This place rocks: when Star Wars was re-released in 1997, the management tracked down a copy of the original cartoon that Lucas requested precede the film on its original release. They also managed to secure one of the master duplication prints, which is one of the prints from which the rest of the prints are duplicated for wide release. It's no wonder John Waters premieres so many of his films there.

In any event, I decided to hit Baltimore for the show on Thursday and then head back down to NC to see the show at the legendary Cat's Cradle in Carrboro on Sunday. Obsessive? Yeah. Still, Tim promised me that the Senator show would at the very least sound incredible. For some reason, Mike decides to come along as well. We got tickets (only $16 this time!) and headed a block away to get something to eat. Of course we tell them we've got a show to catch in an hour. You guess what happened.

Five minutes before the show time, we run into the Senator still shoving food in our holes. We, of course, get the back row. About 20 minutes later (DOH!) Hank walks out. We can barely hear him. He immediately starts off by explaining that he's sacrificing his throat for us, that for some reason the PA decided to kill itself right before the show. The speakers at the front of the stage are his monitors... used to amplify sound enough so he can hear himself. Instead, these are being used to provide dispersion for a room the size larger than most high school gymnasiums. Great. I glare over at Tim as though it were his fault. He laughs in my face. Thanks, Tim.

So he goes into the show, talking about a bunch of stuff. He covers a few things he did at the last show, but also talks about doing his first talking shows in Russia (a place where English is not easily understood) and the difficulties using a translator to get his improv across. He then talked about his subsequent trip to Israel and his tour of the country. Using this as a springboard, he spoke on how cool he thought Jesus was as a human being. Furthering his travel stories, he discussed the joys of traffic in Cairo and the staggering impact of the age of the pyramids. Of course I loved the show, but I think both Tim and Mike were Rollinsed out for a bit.

So where am I a few days later? Another state, another show. Yeah, I had bought my ticket in December. Yeah, I showed up early. Yeah, I went alone. Why? Everyone I'd invited to the show bailed on me because they had to watch TV or something. Great. But it was excellent. The Cradle is a fairly small venue, so the seats were decent. You could hear the show. He seemed more at ease this night, opening up by remarking on how Ska music has created the necessity for the "fucker proof" mic grip... how that jock who used to beat you up in high school was given a trumpet and DA-da-DA-da-DA-da... Guess you had to be there. Much of this show was the same as the one several days earlier, but it was interesting to see how the material was blending together and being tried out in different places with different leads. Also cool to hear different details thrown in. Remember: I'm a spoken word junkie. I'm into this shit. Don't try to understand it.

The best part of the show was when Henry spoke about his experience in filming the movie Morgan's Ferry with Kelly McGillis and Billy Zane. He discussed at length his amusement with the nude scene he was supposed to do. Remarking first about the many random on-lookers who arrived outside the location just for that day (many of which were armed with cameras,) he relayed his difficulties in filming the scene which required brief frontal nudity and a bit more rear nudity. The most amusing part came in his description of him trying to break the ice before the scene by running around the set with his pants pulled up to nigh his nipples. As he demonstrated this at the show, several cameras came out. His response was to note the bulge leaning to the left and then to turn around to model the fantastic wedgie he'd given himself. Quite a few pictures were taken... I'd love to see some of those shots.

With the pants still up, he then went on to explain how he and Ian MacKaye used to "pick up girls" by leaning on the walls outside new wave clubs with the pants up and using a nasal voice to croon "Hey baybee!" The real fun came when a beautiful girl walked past with her very large, semi-Neandrathal boyfriend. "Hey baybee!" Boyfriend turns around. Boyfriend sees total geek with pants pulled up to mid-chest and ridiculous grin. Boyfriend realizes if he tries to beat up geek, girlfriend will probably not be amused. Boyfriend and girlfriend walk away as two evil teens laugh to each other.

Three hours later, he finished up. I walked out of there smiling yet again. I heard a few days later my friend Karen was going to see him at a series of dates he was to do in California. I realized I was extremely jealous. I can't get enough.


I honestly encourage anyone who thinks they can handle the "Explicit Lyrics" and all to get ahold of any of the stuff on the discography page. It's a real laugh riot a lot of the time, and if you keep your head open you might just notice something about life and yourself. Check it out.