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May 2008 Archives

May 5, 2008

Mildew Meeting

Dean Charleston had a smarmy look about him—skin so deeply tanned it had begun to develop premature wrinkles, teeth so blinding white I would have needed sunglasses if I hadn’t already been wearing my mirrored aviators, hair so greasy you could plant a flag in it. He sat at the end of the conference table with some other A&R people—one go-getting blow-combed junior-executive wannabe, the other a bored-looking goth chick—when I walked into the room.

“Girth,” he said. In person, his voice oozed game-show host affability that I hadn’t heard when I spoke with him on the phone.

“Mr. Charleston,” I said, shaking his hand. I extended my hand to the others, who looked at me like I had offered them a shit sandwich. I withdrew my hand and sat.

May 13, 2008

New Intern

We weren’t going to do this again, because the last guy was a disaster, but because Colby’s been such a flake lately, Margo decided we needed to bring someone else in to help us out with the website and blog.

So we’d like to introduce Marty Rabinowicz, this summer’s intern. He’ll be making things hum behind the scenes, in more ways than one.

Posted by Girth McDürchstein on May 13, 2008 7:19 PM
Permalink | Comments (0) | Band News Colby & Perdida | Digg It

May 8, 2008

Colby’s Blog

He mentioned it, so I finally got around to checking out Colby’s blog. It’s fucking terrifying. After this, I hope I don’t hear from him.

Posted by Girth McDürchstein on May 8, 2008 2:36 PM
Permalink | Comments (0) | Colby & Perdida | Digg It

May 11, 2008

Mildon’t

I took the contract to Feinstein. The band had absolutely no complaints about the deal (in fact, the phrases “thank fucking God” and “holy fuck why didn’t you sign already” were tossed around liberally), but I figured I should take it to a lawyer to make sure Mildew wasn’t trying to fuck us in some way.

Feinstein checked it out as thoroughly as he usually does, and he said it was fine—“nothing objectionable,” he said. “In fact, it’s a suspiciously good offer, all things considered.”

May 17, 2008

The Obsession

Margo and I were in the middle of a pretty typical Saturday afternoon. We decided to go coffin-shopping because, now that the hectic pace has slowed down a little, I got the opportunity to relive Abysmal’s recent greatness by checking back over old blog posts. It reminded me that we never bothered to buy matching coffins for sleeping. Optimally, we’d find a nice old casket-maker whose eyes would bulge to the size and brilliance of agates at the mere thought of a customized king-size coffin, a creation of such opulence and comfort we really could spend eternity lying on it. With our recent advance and sale providing financial freedom we haven’t experienced since I swindled those Nigerians, we could afford to live in style.

Unfortunately, we found ourselves confront with aghast stares rather than sinister grins. Nobody liked our customization plans; they especially disliked it when I informed them the coffin was for living occupants, and what’s worse, we couldn’t find any single-occupant coffins that suited our comfort.

While trying to think of how to take matters into our own hands, I got a phone call.

“This is Girth,” I announced into the phone.

“It’s Colby,” a ragged, panic-stricken voice replied. “I need you.”

May 20, 2008

Recourse

“You obviously don’t understand,” Feinstein whined. “There is nothing we can do about Mildew.”

“There has to be a way,” I barked.

“I’m the lawyer here, kid. Trust me.”

I didn’t know what to say to him. He’d been my lawyer for over a decade, but his expertise seemed to have slipped over the past few years. Was it time to seek out someone new?

May 23, 2008

Finishing Crocodemon

Today, I had to go back to Perdida Cheyenne’s apartment. Last time, she mistook me for Vance Sloane’s enforcer and promised she’d finish her latest script (Dinocroc 3: Crocodemon) by today. According to Colby, who has monitored her like crazy since I implanted that bug, Perdida hasn’t worked on the script at all since I left her apartment.

I didn’t want to do it, but Colby’s my biggest fan. I’d give that up, but my second-biggest fan, at the moment, is a Seattle-based actuary who reads this blog and mails lengthy letters each month, describing what my actions have cost various insurance companies over the years. His writings have tempted me to insurance myself for a high amount, then fake my death, but I couldn’t even get away with the prison scam.

So anyway, I went up to NoHo, to her apartment, and beat down the door.

Read more of "Finishing Crocodemon" »

Posted by Girth McDürchstein on May 23, 2008 10:09 PM
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May 26, 2008

Mildew Recording Artists

“We’ve had a change of heart,” I blurted. “We really would like to become officially sanctioned Mildew Recording Artists.”

Dean Charleston’s watery eyes gazed at me, lips forming a hostile smile. “You missed your shot, McDürchstein. We own the Kelleystein label, and although Redstain albums still sell well, especially since Sarah’s unfortunate passing, but will draw attention to the label until the next Abysmal Crucifix release.”

“What does that mean?” I asked.

“Look, I’m not unreasonable,” Charleston sneered. “I know you’re hurting for money.”

“Are you trying to hypnotize me?”

Posted by Girth McDürchstein on May 26, 2008 1:27 PM
Permalink | Comments (0) | Colby & Perdida Mildew Recording Artists | Digg It

May 29, 2008

The Poz Gala

Yesterday afternoon, Colby called me up and told me to get on my least-stained tuxedo t-shirt and track down an invitation to the biennial Poz Gala in West Hollywood. For those not in the know, the Poz Gala is a $2000-per-plate charity dinner “designed to raise money for research into virginal curative properties associated with AIDS” (quoted from their literature). More to the point, there’s a long-standing theory (possibly untrue) that the AIDS virus can be destroyed if a person has sex with a virgin, and the Poz Organization wants to back this up using science. Good luck!

Why did Colby have such a desperate desire to go? Big shock: his love muffin, Perdida Cheyenne, is a scheduled keynote speaker. Considering his obsession with her supposed imminent death, he wants to keep an eye on things. He also seems to believe, if it’s a murder, it’ll most likely happen in a public place. I always felt like the best way would be very private—no witnesses, nobody around to chase you down. But what do I know?