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September 27, 2007

Who's the Baby Daddy?

Margo didn’t call. Not even once. Barely mobile, I waited beside the phone, moving periodically to get food or a new bottle of whiskey. It’s a cordless phone, so I’m not entirely sure why I felt compelled to sit next to the base charger when I could get up and move around. Maybe it was her leaving; maybe it was the funeral. It was probably a combination of both. I just didn’t feel like doing anything. It was like being stoned, only without the light burning sensation in my chest.

I usually screen calls to avoid bill collectors, death threats, hangers-on, Vance Sloane, and other assholes I have no interest in talking to. But for the past two days, I aggressively pounced on the phone. Again, I’m not sure why, since I have caller ID and know any number she dialed would not come up as UNAVAILABLE, CROTCHBREATH LEATHER GOODS, or HECTOR’S SPITE PRODUCTIONS. I guess in the back of my mind, something made me think she’d be deceptive enough to call from a strange place in the hopes that I’d answer or listen to the VoiceMail.

September 28, 2007

Margo Atwater's 'The Return'

“You don’t have to be so melodramatic,” I groaned. “You’ve been gone for, like, a week.”

“More like two weeks, if you’re ignoring that part where I came back,” Margo said coyly.

“I’m not.”

“Huh.”

We shared an awkward moment, until she finally got up and hugged me. I stood like a lump, because happy as I was to have her back, the full effect of finding out I have an illegitimate daughter had just slapped me in the face like so many gigantic, pump-action ejaculating dildos.

Written by Girth McDürchstein on September 28, 2007 9:56 AM
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September 29, 2007

Renal Failure

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Well, after all that lying and conniving with Lacey, she insisted I make this stupid charity thing legitimate, so I spent all of yesterday sitting in the back storeroom of the Den Himmel Clinic in Studio City, waiting to pop the cherry on Girth McDürchstein’s Sweet Treasures, my charity for wayward girls.

October 1, 2007

Moving In...

I looked at my face in the mirror like, What have I done? How could I be so stupid to be have laid my daughter? Granted, she wanted it, and at the time I wasn’t absolutely certain she was my daughter. Everything spiraled out of control when I realized the truth. I no longer know what to do with myself, except that I know I can never see my daughter again. Unfortunately, Morty Melendez has called my cell phone 15 times in the past 12 hours. What can I tell him? “Yes, I finally saw my daughter and I banged her in ways that many states have outlawed”? Actually, that isn’t such a bad idea.

Update – Later — I just called Morty Melendez. It didn’t go well.

“Mr. McDürchstein, I’ve been trying to reach you—”

“I know, and—”

“Listen, I spoke with Renal and she tells me you two saw each other.”

“Yeah.”

“And…how did that go?” he asked in a smarmy, knowing kind of way.

“Very, very badly.”

Morty chuckled. “We can make this go away, Mr. McDürchstein.”

“We can?!”

“Quite easily.”

“How?”

“Allow your daughter to move in with her. Share your life with her. Make her understand who you are, and you try to understand her.”

“I, uh…I think we’ve done enough ‘understanding’ for a lifetime.”

“Look, McDürchstein, if you don’t do this and you’ll be sued for all you’re worth, which ain’t much. We got pitchers.”

“You’re…blackmailing me into spending time with my daughter.”

“Would you have done it any other way?”

“In more ways than one.”

“That’s what she said,” Morty laughed. “Renal will be at your apartment this afternoon. Welcome her with open arms and use protection.” He hung up.

“Fuck you, motherfucker!” I yelled at the dial tone.

Now I just have to wait for her to show up…

Written by Girth McDürchstein on October 1, 2007 11:17 AM
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October 4, 2007

Magical Mystery Tongue Quest

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Margo glared at her from the other end of the small table wedged into the dining area between the kitchenette and living room. “So, Renal,” she said, “what’s the weather like in Tucumcari?”

Renal scowled. “Hot,” she snapped. “And dry,” she added.

“Just checking,” Margo grunted.

“What’s your problem, bitch?”

“You wanna start something?” Margo slammed the butt of her beer bottle against the edge of the table. She had to do this three or four times before it broke (it’s harder than the movies make it look), sending a gush of beer and brown glass onto the floor. She aimed the wet, broken bottle at Renal.

Written by Girth McDürchstein on October 4, 2007 9:53 AM
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October 7, 2007

Do Call Her Daughter

Well, yesterday Renal and I went down to the Brentwood Blood Lab on South Bundy to do the DNA test. Considering my fame and the $5000 check I handed over on behalf of Girth McDürchstein’s Sweet Treasures, they gave us a result within minutes.

I am, in fact, Renal Rojas’s father.

Now what?

Written by Girth McDürchstein on October 7, 2007 12:22 PM
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October 12, 2007

Family Values

With the news that I am, indeed, Renal Rojas’s father, we have forced ourselves into an awkward family unit. Mistrustful Margo held out for official confirmation; she assumed Renal was trying to con something out of us (but what and why?), but you can’t fake DNA unless you pretend to have an aversion to envelope glue, but that doesn’t really apply in this case. Or does it, I wonder?

October 13, 2007

Used Cars

In my life, I’ve only owned three cars: a gold 1974 Firebird (just like Jim Rockford’s, except leaking oil created stains everywhere I parked and plumes of black smoke every time I drove; also, the paint was splotchy and fading in spots, I had to rebuild the tailpipe out of soup cans and duct tape, the turn signals didn’t work, and the windows only rolled down a quarter of the way), a blue 1987 Ford Econoline with many of the same problems, and my dream car: a black 1994 Cadillac hearse with decorative flames and a supercharged engine.

Now, I know what you’re thinking: legendary rock star Girth McDürchstein drives a 13-year-old car? It’s true, but not in the ways you think—every year, I have the car completely overhauled, engine rebuilt from scratch and updated as auto technology improves. To sum up: it’s the greatest car in the history of the horseless carriage, and I consider myself lucky to own it.

And yet…it’s an incredibly dangerous vehicle. I discovered this during my early, ill-advised attempts at street racing. It handles like a school bus, corners like a shopping cart, and it is incredibly front-heavy because it’s designed to use caskets as a counter-weight. Even when I bought a cheap coffin and weighted it with bricks, the hearse lost every race and killed more small animals than I want to admit.

I need a safer car. I have a daughter now. I can’t blast along the 5 at 85mph in a hearse that will flip if I take a curve too quickly. I still need something roomy—to drive around her friends and any necessary equipment—but nothing monstrous like a Hummer or even an SUV. After hours of research, I decided on a Pontiac Montana. If I read the crash test ratings correctly, it’s the safest car on the road.

October 14, 2007

The New Van

This afternoon, I pulled up to the apartment in the new minivan, which I had parked at the Paint Shaker yesterday to keep it a surprise. Margo happened to be out on the sidewalk, tossing the cats’ litter box into the gutter, and she looked immediately horrified.

“What the fuck, Girth?” she roared when I got out.

“We need a safer car now that Renal—”

“The hearse was perfectly safe.”

“They use it to transport dead people. How safe can it be?!”

“It was your dream car.”

“Renal’s my new dream,” I said.

“You’re disgusting—”

“Not like that!”

October 18, 2007

Fight with the Band

I took the new van down to the studio today. Margo refuses to let me drive her Caddy; in fact, since the other day she won’t even talk to me. We’re in a bad way, she and I, and I’m glad many fans have picked up on this and have sent e-mails, letters, and cards of support. We’ve had many relationship tests in the past few years, but we’ve always survived. She really, really seems to hate Renal, though. I’ve always wondered, if I had to make that choice, would I choose my own flesh and blood, a piece of me—or her? I always thought I’d choose her, but right now, I’d choose me.

October 22, 2007

Selfless

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I breezed through the Den Himmel Clinic, casting sidelong glances at some of the more attractive girls on my way to the back storeroom where my my charity is headquartered. Since I’m busy trying to record an album and rehearse for upcoming live gigs, I’ve delegated many of the charity responsibilities to Margo and my daughter, Renal. In fact, I came to Den Himmel to pick Renal up and take her to beach volleyball practice in Santa Monica. I hoped taking her to the beach wouldn’t end the way it did last time.

As I reached the storeroom, the sound of her voice wafted through the semi-open door. I paused to listen to her unfiltered advice: “Slow down, chica, just think about it: you’re gonna get flabby, your tits are gonna sag, you’re gonna be looser than Jessica Martin—”

“That bitch!” the unknown girl snapped.

“You need to just terminate this pregnancy now. It’ll solve all your problems with Tommy, and you’ll keep that tight-ass body you’ve worked so hard on.”

“I’ll do it!”

I nodded with approval, even though I knew Renal couldn’t see me. She gave the exact same advice I would have—remarkably mature for a girl of her age.

October 27, 2007

Soaked in the Rain

“It’s boring and repetitive,” Mikey said defiantly, setting his bass down on its stand as he crossed the room toward me.

“It’s revolutionary,” I countered. “Nothing like this has ever been done in the history of music—a metalcore hip-hopera using variations on the same chord progression over and over and over, telling a story with so many twists, turns, and cliffhangers it’s nearly impossible to believe.”

Mikey arched his eyebrows. “Nearly?”

November 16, 2007

Renal Advice

Renal gave me a hard stare. “Why do you let her treat you like that?”

We were sitting in the minivan, in a parking space outside the Target at the Empire Center in Burbank. Margo had gone inside and forced us both to wait in the car.

“I don’t know what you mean,” I said.

“She treats you like total shit.”

I shrugged.

“Are you trying to tell me you haven’t noticed?” She put a soft arm around me. “Come on, Dad, she’s using you.”

“Bullshit,” I said.

“Remember what you told me? About Iowa?” Renal smiled. “She’s full of shit, man. She said she came there because she loved you, then she said she came there to help you nab that other chick, and it was all just to make you feel guilty about leaving her, so you’d not only take her back but finally marry her. Think about it: was anything that happened on that trip, after she showed up, your idea? What you wanted?”

“You don’t understand,” I snapped. “It’s like a yin and yang thing. She’s good for me, I’m good for her.”

“I’m not trying to be mean,” Renal said. “It’s just…you can’t expect somebody from a family of con artists to treat you like anything besides a mark.”

“Like you would know.”

Renal shrugged.

“I love your mother—”

“She’s not my mother!” Renal barked.

“Be that as it may,” I said, “you will treat her with respect.”

Still, I couldn’t help thinking… It did seem like an awful lot of the decisions made by me were actually decisions Margo made; she just made me feel like I agreed with her, even though usually I started out disagreeing. I couldn’t deny that she came from a family of grifters; however, she was a state-champion debater. She was very good at arguing. That’s why she always wins, right?

Right?

Written by Girth McDürchstein on November 16, 2007 1:17 PM
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November 22, 2007

Mom

I haven’t celebrated Thanksgiving since 1995. It has very little to do with the political ramifications of the holiday—though I must say that I am against anything that glorifies that massacre of Native Americans—but with the idea that this holiday is for family. I left my family and, although I have a band and a wife, I’ve never regained that sense of family. However, it occurred to me that we really are like a family—every rehearsal with Abysmal inevitably ends with one person in tears and another shouting, “I’ll see you cocksuckers in hell!” That’s like having Thanksgiving every day.

I wanted Renal to see what a real family get-together is like. All she’s had for her whole life is a promiscuous mother whose idea of Thanksgiving dinner was a quart of milk mixed with a bottle of Budweiser. Granted, I’ve had Thanksgivings like that, but I grew up in Iowa. Things are different there.

November 23, 2007

Thanksgiving with the Band

We kept the decorations left over from the previous group, an outfit called Kornblum Enterprises. They had a festive holiday theme going: red, white, and blue balloons spread all over the place, with several huge banners clinging to the walls that read WE DID IT!!! KORNBLUM ENTERPRISES – NOW ISO 9002 CERTIFIED!!! Margo, Renal, and I got to the hotel around noon, checked out the room, hung out with Mom for a little while. She still seemed a bit hungover, but that changed after a few cups of coffee and a couple of custom In-N-Out 5x5s.

Written by Girth McDürchstein on November 23, 2007 11:14 AM
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Going Home Again

“You should come with me,” Mom said as I pulled her suitcase from the back of the minivan.

“Why?”

“Some of us miss you, Matt…”

“There’s nothing for me there, Mom. I’m sorry.”

“What about Carl?”

“He’s not going back…is he?”

“He’ll be visiting a lot more.”

“I don’t want to know.”

She pecked me on the cheek. “I’ll miss you, Matty.”

“Have a safe flight.”

“I love you.”

“Yeah…me too.”

I handed her bag to a skycap, showed him her ticket, slipped him three bucks in loose change, nodded at Mom, and hopped back in the van.

As I merged back onto the street, I saw her waving in the rearview mirror. I nodded at the reflection, but I don’t think she saw me.

Written by Girth McDürchstein on November 23, 2007 5:24 PM
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December 16, 2007

Bad Influence

I just got off the phone with our publicist, Lacey Greenwood. She did not sound happy, but to my surprise her unhappiness didn’t steam from the leaking of our unfinished album.

“You might hate it, Girth, but it’s actually good publicity,” she snapped. “Much better than cancelling the album. Again. It shows you’ve actually been working on something after all these years, that it was almost complete, and that—well, at the very least, parts of it were good.”

December 17, 2007

Girth McDürchstein's Bittersweet Treasures

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I was warned, but I never could have foreseen how bad things would be. The article that has been printed, and the supposedly “objective” news media has decided to paint me as the worst villain Los Angeles has ever seen. Ever. I mean, come on? Worse than O.J. Simpson? Oh. Right.

So I’m taking the opportunity to respond to the various allegations against me.

With regards to me taking “little blame,” maybe it’ll damage my reputation even more bringing this up, but it has to be said: I founded this charity as a scam to launder $830,000 I won fairly from Nigerians. I take full responsibility for the concept behind it and its original purpose for existing. However, it was Lacey Greenwood who forced me to make this a legitimate operation. I am not a trained or licensed child psychologist, and neither are my wife and daughter. I didn’t think it could be harmful to give the same advice to teenage girls that we’d give to anyone else.
“I’m always preaching positive morals, and I will rape and murder anybody who says otherwise”? They completely misquoted me here. I actually said, “I’m always preaching positive morals, and I am fully aware that rape and murder are social ills that must be stopped, which is why I want to help teen girls before their hormonal and/or menstrual rage force them to commit crimes.”
I have to address the denigration of my Church. Nowhere in the original seven gold tablets pulled from the Woodstock mud does it encourage felonious acts. This stems partially from a corruption of Rafelman’s vision, but mainly as a wild misunderstanding of our great and true religion by the media. Take a moment to stop by Gambol Gutenberg’s office. He will enlighten you as he did me. Just don’t let him play footsy with you.
My thoughts on the supposed moral destruction of teen girls all over L.A. County are pretty simple: we’re a scapegoat. Los Angeles is, and always has been, a den of loose behavior and wild, corrupted virtues. If we want to nip this social problem in the bud, we need to concentrate less on relatively ineffective charities that try to do the right thing, and we need to concentrate more on the poor parenting skills that lead these teen girls to visit Girth McDürchstein’s Sweet Treasures.

I guess I’ll see everyone at the show tonight. I hope.

Written by Girth McDürchstein on December 17, 2007 2:51 PM
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December 18, 2007

Roxy Benefit – Canceled

I guess I should have seen this coming. Our planned benefit show at the Roxy Theatre was canceled unceremoniously—so unceremoniously, in fact, that nobody bothered to inform the band until we backed up to the loading dock with our instruments.

All this negative press is really starting to weigh on me. I never used to give a shit what anybody thought of me, but now I have a family to support. I can’t take the idea that most of Los Angeles thinks I’m some amoral swine. I have a very firm moral code; it’s just a little different from L.A.’s notoriously conservative mindset.

Written by Girth McDürchstein on December 18, 2007 2:07 AM
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December 21, 2007

Songwriting Struggles

Do you know how difficult it is to write a song about condoms? Nothing rhymes with “condom.” The closest I could come (in more ways than one) is “fondle,” but I don’t think I’m allowed to write any songs about fondling anymore.

Birth-control pills are easier to rhyme, but I’m still having trouble. “Kill,” “ill,” “fill”—none of those are appropriate rhymes for a pro-Pill song.

Update: Okay, I got some lyrics down about a Dutch girl with pigtails who works at a windmill and wants to have sex with the windmill owner so she can have his child and then blackmail him to save her family’s failing farm. To her dismay, the owner insists she goes on The Pill. This may be the greatest dramatic conflict in the history of Abysmal lyrics, but I can’t figure out a good guitar hook for it.

Written by Girth McDürchstein on December 21, 2007 11:04 AM
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January 4, 2008

The Sunset Strip

Margo went out of town a few days ago for a modeling shoot in Boston, so I haven’t had much to do. Renal always seems to be out with her friends until all hours of the night, the band hasn’t been practicing since we are, at the moment, floundering. I hate to admit that, but we have no new material, nobody in the U.S. will book us, and ever since our world tour over the summer, I have been afraid to leave the country. Not so much out of embarrassment as the fact that I’m pretty sure there’s a price on my head in at least four countries.

Anyway, I decided to go down to a club out in Glendale called The Sunset Strip. Considering it’s nowhere near the actual Strip, I think it’s pretty obvious what kind of club it is. (It’s a strip club.) I had fun for about half an hour stuffing singles into the leopard G-string of a fake-titted blonde named Amber, but when she brought my third beer she whisper-shouted (to be heard over the music) that the main attraction would be hitting the stage in a few moments, so Amber needed to clear her pole.

“That sucks,” I said, sticking a fifty down the center of her G-string and playing around down there for a moment. “Is she hot?”

Amber moaned softly, “The hottest.” Then she walked away without saying goodbye.

“It’s that time again,” the slovenly D.J. croaked into his microphone. To my surprise, my own song “Phone Sex” started to play over the P.A. “The most sextacular 18-year-old ever to grace the stage—Margo Atwater!”

My jaw literally dropped. Margo had acted overly interested when a stripper from Indiana sought permission to use “Phone Sex” in her act, but I had no idea why…until now! I was about to leap to the stage and force her into the back to give her a stern talking-to, but I realized I would inevitably back down, so what was the point? I let it ride to see if her act was any good.

When the singing started, the curtain burst open, and a lingerie-clad girl who was decidedly not my wife launched herself onto the stage, throbbing and gyrating to the beat. She looked familiar, but I didn’t know for sure until she dropped the bra.

“Renal!” I gasped, lunging toward the stage, hypnotized by her small but luscious breasts.

Renal’s dancing slowed when she saw me. She looked baffled as five beefy bouncers jumped me from behind.

“RENAL!” I roared as they dragged me toward the front door.

On the long minivan ride home, I knew what had to be done. Only one thing could save Renal Rojas—and, almost as importantly, the reputation of myself and Abysmal Crucifix. One major change.

Written by Girth McDürchstein on January 4, 2008 11:58 PM
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January 6, 2008

Rebranding

“Rebranding? What the fuck does that even mean?” Carl asked.

I looked to Lacey, who stood next to me at the head of Harcourt Abimelech Feinstein’s dried-blood-encrusted conference table. She slipped me a worried glance, then said to Carl, “It means from this day forward, you are no longer Abysmal Crucifix. You are the Jupiter Starshine Collective.”

“Uhhh,” Mikey Parker said at length.

“Trust me,” I said. “I’ve thought and thought and thought about this—it’s the only way. We have to play happy, peppy pop-rock about joy, peace, and love.”

January 15, 2008

Jupiter Starshine Collective

Well, here we are. The Jupiter Starshine Collective, once known by the name Abysmal Crucifix, is here to rock and teach your impressionable children.

Our MySpace song line-up has changed drastically as a result of our focus on family-oriented pop over misogynistic, sexually charged heavy metal. While we, unfortunately, cannot include any recordings of new material, we have a plethora of older songs appropriate for children and adults of all ages. It is my hope that this music will help promote discussion, understanding, and tolerance in a society desperately yearning for all three. I’d like to explain some of the choices because, at first listen, they might not appear to contain the positive values I’ve described.

First, we have the live recording of a very heavy song—both in subject and in level of rock—called “Rolling in It.” Now, parents, I understand that this song contains an expletive, repeatedly, but that shouldn’t dull the underlying message that sharing banking information with Nigerians is always bad. Sometimes you can outsmart them, but they’re a shrewd bunch and they love scamming innocent college students with credit cards. Watch out, parents and kids!
An acoustic version of fan favorite “Put It Where It Doesn’t Belong” may sound like a macho song dripping with testosterone, but if you listen closely, you will hear its pro-immigration message. Even when I first wrote it, I described as “a latter-day ‘Get Together.’” My voice may not ring as nicely as Jesse Colin’s, but I believe the message is clear.
”Two Berries on a Twig” and “Man Is It Sweaty!” are the two most romantic songs I’ve ever written—I think their message of love conquering all is extremely relevant in a society where such filth as celebrity sex tapes and Dancing with the Stars are considered high cultural touchstones.
And finally, the gun-control rap classic “Gangster Lovestick.” Now, many kids today love the rap music, and in 1998 I tried to tap into this while getting a heavy message across—guns do kill people!

In the coming weeks, look for brand new Jupiter Starshine Collective music!

Written by Girth McDürchstein on January 15, 2008 3:36 PM
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January 18, 2008

PRESS RELEASE: First Jupiter Starshine Collective Single – Little Darlin'!!

FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE

Lacey’s Relations
1142 Wilshire Blvd.
Suite 600
Los Angeles, CA 90017

“LITTLE DARLIN’” POISED TO TAKE POP CHARTS BY STORM

LOS ANGELES, January 18, 2008 — “I love my daughter, and I don’t care who knows it,” says Girth McDürchstein. He’s speaking specifically about Jupiter Starshine Collective’s latest single, “Little Darlin’,” but it could just easily apply to the entire band.

In 1992, McDürchstein founded thrash band Abysmal Crucifix. In 1994, after a disagreement with longtime bandmates Carl Davenport and Robin Kelley, he re-formed the band in Los Angeles with entirely new players—with the exception of McDürchstein himself, who remained lead vocalist, lead guitarist, and principal songwriter—and a modified sound. Abandoning the trademark “epic” songs loaded with instrumental passages, solos, and ever-changing riffs that made McDürchstein a star, the songwriter began to favor a heavy-metal spin on the three-minute pop song, churning out such gems as “Phone Sex” (1995), “Kingdom Cum” (1996), the tender ballad “Two Berries on a Twig” (1996), and politically conscious “Rolling in It” (1998).

It was a change that pleased few. Longtime fans felt McDürchstein had “sold out,” while casual fans or non-fans felt alienated by lyrics described as everything from “insipid” to “unholy portents of our mutually assured cultural destruction.” This did not stop McDürchstein, who in 2002 produced the best of both worlds: Girth McDürchstein’s ‘The Hedge’, a concept double-album telling an intricate story and featuring a tantalizing hybrid of lengthy, artistically obtuse rockers and polished pop hooks.

After meeting his estranged daughter in 2007, McDürchstein chose to change the band’s focus—but also its name and identity!

“What does Jupiter Starshine Collective mean to me?” he asked rhetorically, sitting back with a wistful twinkle in his eye, thinking deeply. “Family. Love. Charity.

“Who can be a member of this collective?” he continued. “Is it just me, Margo, Carl, Nicholas, and Michael? No. Anybody who has ever felt love in their hearts for family or friend—or even enemy—they are members of the Collective. I think it’s a privilege to call yourself a member of the Collective, and it’s something you have to earn. And because a participant in Jupiter Starshine Collective does, he or she has the ability to create new and better realities, and improve conditions.”

Jupiter Starshine Collective goes above and beyond the limited scope of Abysmal Crucifix not just in spirit, but also in quality of music. Already, industry insiders consider this hastily produced single the dawn of a new musical day for Girth McDürchstein and has bandmates. Before its official release, “Little Darlin’” has already received consistent radio airplay throughout Southern California and in markets as diverse as Vancouver, Baltimore, and Paducah. It is the #3 most requested song on KMSC out of Sioux City, Iowa, and if these trends continue, it could be McDürchstein’s first charting single in nearly a decade.

Please enjoy “Little Darlin’” yourself by downloading it. Download here.

The lyrics are transcribed below:

Runnin’ through a field of apple blossom leaves
On a sunny day, hair blowin’ in the breeze.
Never seen a daughter who looks so fair
Come to Daddy, girl, and let me brush your hair.

Little Darlin’, come and sit upon my knee.
You’re my baby girl, I love you, can’t you see?
Little Darlin’, let me whisper in your ear.
Keep a secret, baby, there’s no need to fear.

Saturdays, we go strollin’ through the park.
We won’t stay too long, I know you hate the dark.
Let’s go to the mall for some clothes shopping.
I’ll watch you try some outfits on if you want me.

Little Darlin’, let me stroke your lovely hair.
Lay your head upon my chest, your skin’s so fair.
Little Darlin’, don’t you cry tonight.
I’ll make sure that everything feels all right.

Come on, Little Darlin’, wait for me.
I’m gettin’ older now and can’t keep up, you see.

My baby girl no longer needs me.
All we ever do is fight and disagree.
Maybe someday she’ll come back to me.
She’ll never find a man who stacks up to me.

Little Darlin’, have you torn your party dress?
No need to cry like that, your face just looks a mess.
Let your daddy make your problems go away.
Shuh, shuh, quiet, girl, there’s nothin’ left to say.

INTERESTED IN TICKETS?! That’s right—on Saturday, January 19, we will be handing out a total of 120 tickets for fans to join Jupiter Starshine Collective for a tour of the Paint Shaker and to sit in on a recording session with the band. Find out what it’s like to work in a real recording studio as the group preps their anticipated album, Kinshasa Harpsichord.

We will allow 20 fans per day, starting Monday, January 21, and going until Friday, January 25. If you’d like tickets, act quickly by joining the Jupiter Starshine Collective Official Mailing List and Happy Fan Club or by visiting us at 777 N. Highland in Hollywood. Limit: One ticket per person!

###

Press Contact:
Lacey Greenwood
818.655.5000
laceygstring@girthmcdurchstein.com

Written by Lacey Greenwood on January 18, 2008 4:13 PM
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January 20, 2008

One of Those Weeks...

You know that gnr song ‘Sometimes these things just seem to rip you right in two, oh no man don’t let ‘em get ta you….’? I’m having one of those weeks…I just got 2 new kittens, brothers and sisters, named miss cleopatra and mister tommy slater…they are the best of friends, which is wonderful, but being young, they are into everything, including some things I didn’t know you could get into…mister slater also seems to want to wake me up at 5am to say hello…well, the music for the pop and folk record is going really swell, just starting to get into a groove writing some songs…predominantly focusing on melodies right now, leaving the words for a bit further down the road, which is unusual, but necessary…in the months to come, I am going to share some things with you that you have never heard me say…that doesn’t mean I’m rewriting history, that means I’m going to tell you the truth about who I am and what I believe in my heart…a lot of things that I have said thru the years seemed confusing, like I was hiding somethin!g, and often times I was…’why’, you might ask? Many times I hid to protect my band mates…for example, its been almost 6 years since I went on my friend gina’s radio show and announced that ‘the Hedge’ would be coming out…that day, when she asked why it took 4 years to put out an album and why we had to go to england to record it, I said something silly like, ‘because I was in prison for events strangely similar to those on the record blah blah’…and it went on to be widely quoted, as if I spent 4 years, after recording 3 records in about 2 years, trying to get this 1 album together…and you know, let’s just not worry about losing the fans or what have you…by saying that, I was seen as a songwriter who couldn’t get his act together, which was sad cause it wans’t true at all…The truth of the matter is is at the time I was a bandleader who lost controll…did it help that tommy was out, along with our previous (never released) album? No, that didn’t help, not at all…it made it very hard to go on, but we soldier! ed thru it even though our hearts were broken…But tommy didn’t slow us down, we didn’t let him…and I didn’t go to prison at all…but really this was all mikey and Riffs and Jam who had no respect…Jam kept trying to steal control…Mikey disrespected…Riffs acted crazy and unpredictable…but I was too loyal to them…I couldn’t stop them from convincing me to make bad decisions…undermining my creative authority…I did what they asked to protect them, to protect the band…but I won’t be protecting them anymore…and I won’t be protecting a whole lot of other people anymore…not because I don’t love them (I do!!) but because I love myself too…I want to say one more thing, and that is I appreciate you reading this…+I want to remind you that I love you…God has given me the strength to say that to you, and I hope that you don’t hide who you are…does it make me sad that I have hid myself all these years? No, it was what I had to do to survive, or least what I ‘thought’ I needed to do…but surviving is not enough…we all deserve to flourish, and to know happiness and joy…that is my new dream…abysmal crucifix gave me that, and I am eternally grateful…especially to those that shared in the dream with me…even if you bought just one cd, or came to a show, you gave us a chance…we thank you for that…even if we don’t always know how to show it…even if we change our genre, name, and attitude to better reflect the political climate and avoid exhaustive media coverage…be well!! Girth

Written by Girth McDürchstein on January 20, 2008 5:22 AM
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January 22, 2008

Martin Luther King Holiday

Hi… i figured posting on MLK day was a bit obsessive, so I skipped it, but to keep the stream of consciousness flowing, I did take the opportunity on MLK day to play the entire 8 jupiter songs in to-tal for my family, and it was good practice, making me realize (yet again) that I’m out of shape :) So that makes 3 full run thru’s in 2 days, for those keeping score, which has been helpful and has really helped to build my confidence for any shows we might book…. one sidenote: I was lazy and didn’t want to take 3 guitars home (I’ve been keeping them at the paint shaker), do I just took one, which (because of alternate tuning issues) forced me to change the basic set I had written up…. i was surprised that the feeling was consistent even with a different flow of songs, and that was something I didn’t expect….

ok, on to today, the first day of recording…. i got there at about 1:30 with the 20 fans supposed to come at 3. on Saturday past, we gave out 120 tickets (20 a day) for some fans to come…. right away when I got there it was obvious that certain things still weren’t set up, as ladders were being moved and microphones set up, etc. so, at 3:30 p.m., we started letting some people in even though we were not showbiz ready…. everyone that came was very nice and friendly, which made having to sit there and test levels more tolerable…. after a while, we were ready to go, and we had to let everyone know to keep absolutely still because the microphones are cranked up so much you can hear people breathing! the first song we did takes on is called “jeremiah knows,” which is probably not going to be the title at the end of it all, but works for now…. i picked it because it’s a fun song to play and isn’t a “metal” song…. we did a few takes of that, and I got bored and we switched to a more important song, the 9-minute song “kiss you there”….

the first take was going great when I spaced it out and messed up after about 7 minutes, which is frustrating but goes with the territory of being in the moment. after I messed up, we tried one more of that one, which I got all the way thru with, and it was decent but not heart stopping…. in between takes I chatted with the people there, about things that were on their mind, like my past, and my past, and oh yeah, my future! I’m just kidding, we talked about all sorts of stuff, and everyone was very sweet and was kind about the whole process, which at the base of it I find boring…. the show biz part of me wants to keep anyone watching entertained but it is just not that forum…. i did a really beautiful take of a song called “sheathe your sword” in a lower key that normal, which seems to make it more peaceful and pretty…. some fans were crying after I finished, and it felt good to finally hit the right moment….

the day was shot with 7 cameras, and as I was going out the door carlos was giving each person a chance to ask a question that we may use as part of an interview segment on the DVD…. that’s all for now…. thanks to everyone who came today, you were great…. g.mcd

Written by Girth McDürchstein on January 22, 2008 7:39 PM
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January 23, 2008

Little Kittens

Well, these little kittens have taken over my life, my psyche, the studio, and now they are singing on the record!! what next?? I have officially become one of those cat people, you know the ones who are like “you should have seen my cat…he is so funny, he like jumped from this things across to there and he made this funny face” and of course everyone nods politely and all but they think I’ve lost it…i guess I am not so tough after all…recording is still going swimmingly well, I am happy to report…lots of new ground being covered, all in a loud way…we are awaiting the arrival of some new equipment which will be changing the way we work…to this point it has been a sort of feeling out process, with lots of good ideas…once we get the new gear, we are going in full bore on songs…right now we hope to be mixing by march, with the loving dream of an easter type release…my book publisher told me they have slated the poetry book for late february, so of the 3 things going on, that will be the first to arrive upon your doorstep… I have been working on some of these songs for 4 years now, and it’s time to move on…to more out of tune type deals…we are a little tired, as we often don’t take any days off…so excuse the scattershot approach…after all, I am gonna be 34 soon…ugh!!!! See you at the party… :) In my next post, I will be able to give you my new email address if you would like to correspond…someone will be going thru the mail for me, so you are gonna have to win them over, not me…but I will do my best to respond to those that make sense and lack the common negativity that is all the rage these days…so if you are special, having something important to share, or a question I would hope to answer, get yer emails ready…also, keep an eye out, I’m gonna put a link up for my friends web site (alistair freeman)…he is a very talented airbrush artist, and is open to doing special commision type work (portraits, motorcycle tanks, etc)…so you can drop him a line too!!! all my best g.mcd

Written by Girth McDürchstein on January 23, 2008 12:14 PM
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January 24, 2008

Good Morning, My Friends

Good morning, my friends…I write this to you at 7am or so, having just fed my cats (they get up early!)…they have figured out the gentle paw on the face as a way to say ‘get up and feed us/love us/play with us/whatever’, and when the gentle paw does not work, I get the gentle paw with some sharp claw :) We have finally received my christmas present, a fantastic piece of equipment that has already changed the direction and sound of the album…I am very excited about working this new way, and can’t wait to fully get into finally starting and finishing songs…there are lots of wonderful places to start, and directions to go that we haven’t even thought of yet…the best feeling is that I am in new territory (for me), and I wake up everyday, tired as I am, looking forward to going in to work…I feel this music will be very close to me and who I am, and when you find yourself in those places it is a very good thing…I can tell you it is not that exciting, but it is interesting as an experience of what goes on behind the scenes…I have been meaning to do a post on prayer and religion and whatever else goes in with tha!t, and I hope to do that this week, so please look for it g.mcd

Written by Girth McDürchstein on January 24, 2008 7:22 AM
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January 25, 2008

Bad Reaction

Lacey just called. She’s all freaking out about our switch from hard rockers Abysmal Crucifix to the mainstream, family-oriented pop flavor of Jupiter Starshine Collective, culminating in our first single, “Little Darlin’.”

“This isn’t working, goddammit,” Lacey said in lieu of “hello.”

“Hey, Lacey,” I said, used to the abusive style of her phone calls.

Subpoenaed?!

I was in the kitchen, stirring a batch of homemade butterscotch candies for the preteens who scurry home along Moorpark from the elementary school nearby. Oftentimes, I find myself sitting on the balcony, enjoying a sunny afternoon, just watching the children laugh and play and touch one another. On occasion, Margo accuses me of leering and makes me come inside. It’s a little running joke we have. I thought making them some candy would give them a little thrill, and I could watch with satisfaction as they drop those little hard things onto their wet tongues. Slowly, after about five or ten minutes of intense sucking, the candies would soften, spraying the back of their throats with an extra burst of delicious flavor.

Margo sat on the couch with a clipboard and some looseleaf paper, making notes for her next issue of Happy Kitten Express, formerly known as Slut-Wrench. Renal sat on the floor, pressed up to the coffee table, doing the chemistry homework Margo had assigned earlier. Her hair was all done up in pigtails. My daughter looked adorable as her face wrinkled with consternation.

We heard a fierce pounding on the door.

“I’ll get it,” I said with a pleasing, musical lilt to my voice. Margo smiled at me like she used to when she took illegal Quaalades on a semi-regular basis. Mixing bowl in hand, I continued stirring as I crossed the tiny dining area to the front door.

January 27, 2008

Testimony Before the Senate Committee on Commerce, Science, and Transportation

I had to go to Washington, D.C., to testify before Congress regarding some of the unflattering and libelous things being written about my charity.

Read the full testimony by clicking here. A brief excerpt follows:

   MATTHEW PHILLIPS. My name is Girth McDürchstein. This is my attorney, Harcourt Abimelech Feinstein.
   The statement that I prepared, that I sent you 100 copies of, is five pages long, so I have shortened it down and am going to read a condensed version of it.
   Certain things have—I’ve listened from outside the hall and I have to ask, why am I here? Have I committed a crime of any kind? If so, shouldn’t I be charged by authorities and—
   Chairman CARTER. I think you had better concentrate on your testimony, rather than asking questions.
   MATTHEW PHILLIPS. But—
   Chairman CARTER. Nobody answer his questions. Nobody answer his questions!
   MATTHEW PHILLIPS. OK, thank you.

I’m posting this transcript so I can show everyone how the Senate has railroaded me and Sweet Treasures. That charity will cease to be, but I hope the help we’ve provided to the youth of Los Angeles will live on in their hearts for years to come.

On an unrelated note, I somehow managed to spend the remaining $800,000 of charity funds three days before I was subpoenaed. I have non-fraudulent receipts and statements backing this up. Tax that, motherfuckers!

Written by Girth McDürchstein on January 27, 2008 2:23 PM
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January 28, 2008

Raw Deal

Feinstein called me into his office this morning and told me he had something urgent, a client he wanted me to meet regarding touring. Thinking it was a sponsor of some kind, I got dressed and drove down to Venice. His secretary, Sheila, gave me the usual look of lust and disdain, then sent me right in to see Herc.

I threw open the double doors as I said, “So what’s going on…”

I faltered when I saw, flanking Feinstein at the head of the conference table, Lacey and televangelist Hank Wooster.

“…Herc?” I finished anticlimactically.

“It’s okay, Girth. I don’t bite.” Wooster smiled, revealing teeth as blinding white as his lily colored suit. He spoke in a deep baritone with a rich Western twang.

“We’ll see about that,” I muttered.

January 29, 2008

PRESS RELEASE: Den Himmel Clinic Under Investigation

FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE

Lacey’s Relations
1142 Wilshire Blvd.
Suite 600
Los Angeles, CA 90017

CHARITY DESTROYED BY HERETICS

LOS ANGELES, January 29, 2008 — In September, Girth McDürchstein established a children’s charity that he believed would benefit the teens of Los Angeles. In these uncertain times, Girth McDürchstein’s Sweet Treasures was formed to spread positive virtues, morality, and awareness like so many communicable diseases; instead, the founders and sponsors of the Den Himmel Clinic forced McDürchstein to preach their own godless gospel.

“My hands were tied,” McDürchstein recalls. “We needed a good location to set up shop, but we had a very small operating budget, and much of it was applied toward building a neon sign.”

Rather than teach the virtues of abstinence, Den Himmel founders Gregory Herrmann and Eloise Jeremiah insisted that McDürchstein praise the power of premarital relations. It’s no surprise that a clinic founded on curing STDs and performing abortions would want to turn teen sex into a positive.

Herrmann refutes McDürchstein’s allegations, made public in a press conference yesterday. “That guys such an [expletive deleted],” he says. “We actually had to insist that he leave the door to the storeroom open, because when he took girls in there and had it closed—I don’t want to say I know exactly what was going on, but we always heard soft moans and the hum of a vibrator.”

“Girls are very emotional and passionate,” McDürchstein responds with a shrug. “And I’m sure that hum was just the water heater.”

Televangelist Hank Wooster praises McDürchstein’s honesty. “He’s shown himself, time and again, to be a good and charitable person, trying to do the right thing in a tough world. I applaud his courage and honesty in the face of Big Free Clinic.”

But Herrmann has the final word. “This is [expletive deleted],” he says, responding to a federal warrant to search the clinic and investigate wrongdoing and unlawful promotion of underage sex.

”[Expletive deleted], indeed,” McDürchstein chuckles.

###

Press Contact:
Lacey Greenwood
818.655.5000
laceygstring@girthmcdurchstein.com

Written by Lacey Greenwood on January 29, 2008 8:18 AM
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January 31, 2008

The Band

Look, guys, I love the fans, I love being in a band again and doing whatever I want, but I hate this fucking blog. I made a promise never to post on it, but I have to break that so I can set the record straight before Girth puts his goofy spin on shit.

So here’s how it’s going down: this afternoon, Mikey, Nicky, and I quit. Yeah, don’t believe the hype. We are not Michael Parker, Nicholas H. Kaplan, and Carl Laurence Davenport. It’s just Mikey, Little Riffs Nicky, and Carl. Girth and Lacey can say any kind of crazy shit that they want, but we are not on board with this Jupiter Starshine fuck shit. That song, “Little Darlin’”? That was just Girth and Margo. That’s it.

Fuck, the past few weeks have been unbearable, made even worse by last week’s “promotional” intrusion by fans of Abysmal Crucifix who, in a confused daze, were lured into rehearsals and recording sessions. All they saw were bitch sessions and shouting matches as the three of us fought tooth and nail against this whole Jupiter Starshine fucking bullshit. Course, it’s Girth’s band and at the end of the day, we’re just along for the ride.

But not if we quit. We all had our different reasons. I think both Mikey and Nicky are pissed about Girth telling everyone he fired them when they actually quit. Personally, maybe I’m too much of a hippie for L.A., but I’m not convinced a person has to change their entire image just to accommodate a few people overreacting and using faulty statistics and faultier logic to bury you.

For someone as manipulative, arrogant, and persistent as Girth, you’d think he wouldn’t be so naïve, but he’s a nightmare. Anything Lacey says to him, or Feinstein, or Margo, or Renal - he follows their advice without question, or at least he tries his best to. If he could trust us as much as he trusts them, we probably wouldn’t be quitting.

Anyway, the last straw was this bullshit with Hank Wooster, the scum of the earth. At least the others have Girth’s best interests at heart - Wooster’s out for his own end, and while I don’t really know what his plans are, but raking Den Himmel through the coals to get a few gigs is thirty pieces of silver I can’t abide. They do what they do, they do it legally, and they’re ethical and as morally just as you can be without being a raging zealot like Wooster. It’s total bullshit that Girth sold them out when all the problems are his fault.

But I also have a problem with Renal. Either she’s as good as Girth is at manipulating without seeming to manipulate, or Girth has really gone off the deep end. She’s a vacuum of money, being showered with an endless number of gifts she doesn’t need. Girth is rearranging his entire lifestyle for her - no more going out, no more drinking, no more doing anything socially without her. I swear, even Margo hates what she’s done to him. He’s a shell of himself, and she’s gone and filled that shell up with Mr. Rogers.

So yeah, we’re done, and no matter what he says, we weren’t fired, we didn’t have some kind of crazy reason for quitting. We’re just unhappy with the direction of the band, so we’re going to form our own. The temporary band name is Velvet Lovestick. Keep your eyes peeled for our new MySpace and some demos in a few weeks.

Written by Carl on January 31, 2008 3:14 PM
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February 2, 2008

PRESS RELEASE: Happy Heartland Tour

FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE

Lacey’s Relations
1142 Wilshire Blvd.
Suite 600
Los Angeles, CA 90017

FAMILY-FRIENDLY BAND ANNOUNCES TOUR OF MIDWEST

LOS ANGELES, February 2, 2008 — Hot on the heels of their latest single, “Little Darlin’,” Jupiter Starshine Collective has announced a 27-city, two-month tour of America’s Heartland—the Happy Heartland Tour! Each concert will be an all-ages show that will welcome both children and parents as Jupiter Starshine Collective explores its eclectic blend of top-40 pop and experimental “acid rock.”

A list of confirmed bookings follows. Additional dates may be added.

Date	City	Venue
2.14.08	Minneapolis, MN	Club 3 Degrees
2.16.08	Duluth, MN	Encounter
2.23.08	Fargo, ND	Bethel Church
2.27.08	Omaha, NE	Mosaic Community Center
2.29.08	Lincoln, NE	Antelope Park Band Shell
3.1.08	Topeka, KS	Community Youth Home
3.5.08	Wichita, KS	Two Rivers Club
3.7.08	Lawrence, KS	O’Connell Ranch
3.8.08	Kansas City, MO	El Torreon
3.11.08	Springfield, MO	Rare Breed Youth Drop-In Center
3.13.08	Columbia, MO	Intersection
3.14.08	St. Louis, MO	The Billiken Club
3.15.08	St. Louis, MO	The Billiken Club
3.18.08	Des Moines, IA	Ichthus Farm
3.21.08	Iowa City, IA	Buddyline
3.22.08	Dubuque, IA	Colts Community Center
3.27.08	Madison, WI	Alliance
3.29.08	Rhinelander, WI	Towering Pines
4.4.08	Milwaukee, WI	Guiding Light Community Youth Center
4.5.08	Chicago, IL	First Nazarene
4.11.08	Decatur, IL	Millikin University
4.12.08	South Bend, IN	Calvary Temple
4.17.08	Grand Rapids, MI	John Ball Teen Center
4.19.08	Traverse City, MI	Northwestern Michigan College
4.21.08	Fort Wayne, IN	The Harvest
4.24.08	Cleveland, OH	The Axis
4.25.08	Columbus, OH	J. Ashburn Jr. Youth Center
4.27.08	Dayton, OH	Dayton Ecumenical Youth Theatre

###

Press Contact:
Lacey Greenwood
818.655.5000
laceygstring@girthmcdurchstein.com

Written by Lacey Greenwood on February 2, 2008 10:12 AM
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February 4, 2008

Quitters

Everyone’s been making a huge deal about the band quitting, and it needs to stop. I’m here to set the record straight, people.

First of all, no matter what Carl says about them nobly quitting because I screwed over some “innocent” people to ensure we’d get booked, it’s not true. Yes, it is true I screwed them over, but they weren’t innocent; yes, the reasons why I screwed them over are true, but I think you’ll agree they’re more than valid. But either way, this isn’t why they quit.

So why did they? Answer: money. These money-grubbing assholes don’t care about our art. They are all hopped up on the fact that Wooster’s taking 50% off the top, Lacey gets 10%, Herc gets 15%, which leaves us with 25% of the profits to split evenly. (This doesn’t even count merch, which we still get 75% of!) They’re just a bunch of complainers, still smarting because our last tour actually cost us money, and for this one we’ll be making less than we ever have. One of Mikey’s grievances is that, once you average all the costs of touring and the time it’ll take, it’ll average out to about $2/hour for him.

So fine, he can go back and slave away at a warehouse. Two bucks an hour is a long way from literally paying to play, like we did in the beginning and he did all through college in his shitty fucking band, Dust Storm. Fuck those assholes. Fuck them all. I don’t need them. I have me. I have Margo on keyboards and backing vocals. I have Renal on the tambourine. What else do I need?

Written by Girth McDürchstein on February 4, 2008 11:45 AM
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February 6, 2008

Condomes

Last night, I sat in the living room reading Gutter Tramps when Renal sat on my knee, put her arms around my neck, and said, “Daddy…”

“Yes, dear?” I asked.

“I know you’ve been trying to think of a way to invest your money ever since the charity went under. I want to introduce you to a friend of mine.”

“What?”

“Her name’s Jordache Finkelstein,” Renal said. “I met her at the Sunset Strip. She goes to college and works at this place that finds real estate to develop. She has a proposal, and I think you should meet with her and hear her out. It’s right up your avenue.”

I shrugged. “‘Kay. When?”

“I sent up a meeting with your lawyer for tomorrow, two o’clock.”

“I’ll be there, little darlin’,” I said.

Renal giggled and scampered away. I leered at her until she disappeared from view.

February 7, 2008

The Long Con

You don’t know anything.

I keep repeating that in my head, over and over again.

Jordache Finkelstein said it to me yesterday. “You don’t know anything. We have two reasons for that: first, it gives you plausible deniability if anything goes wrong. Second, you don’t know anything about construction or architecture or the genius of the Condomes Cumplex, except for what I’ve told you. We don’t want interference. We just want money. You won’t hear a peep from us until you receive your first dividends.”

I nodded as I handed her several dozen cashier’s checks, each made out for $4999.99 for tax purposes. “I have no problem with this. It’s a sound investment. I just hope nothing goes wrong.”

As she examined the checks, Jordache licked her lips and smiled ferociously. “It won’t.”

On a Mission

“You would be taken in by something so stupid,” Margo snapped.

“It seemed so plausible, though,” I whined. “I’ve had sex with so many women. So, so many.” I raised my hand to high-five her, then put it back down when I realized she was in no mood to high-five.

“All right,” Margo said. She tapped her legal pad with a pencil. “Plug in your laptop and load up your asshole blog. Take me through the entire story from day one.”

And so I did. When I finished, she asked for the business card given to me by Morty Melendez, the private investigator who tracked me down for Renal. I pulled it out of my wallet and slid it across the table. Margo examined it for a moment, then stood up.

“Where are you going?”

“I’m going to go see if I can find our friend, Mr. Melendez,” Margo said. “If that doesn’t work, I’m going to Club Fuel. I’m going to find that goddamn bitch. We’re going to get our money back. Order a latté or something. I’ll be back.”

She kissed me on the head and left the Coffee Bean.

Written by Girth McDürchstein on February 7, 2008 12:12 PM
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February 8, 2008

Melendez

Morty Melendez looked different hog-tied. Standing erect, he’s a short but powerful-looking man, with big knotted hands, square shoulders—hell, a square body—and a head that pokes out of a beefy neck like a turtle’s. His eyes, glazed with permanent hate, sneered at you even when his mouth didn’t. In short, he looked like a man you wanted either on your side or as far away from you as possible.

Tied, his body looked as powerful as a female phys. ed. teacher’s. Wimpering, his tear-rimmed, bloodshot eyes evoked no fear but his own. His gnarled hands hung up at awkward angles couldn’t hurt a fly, no matter how hard he tried to get at Margo’s expertly tied knot.

He lay in a heap on the floor of a room we had rented at the Days Inn on Ventura. His longing eyes gazed at the water dish placed on the floor in front of him, just out of reach. Margo’s touch, one that reminded me (not for the first time) that I never want to get on her truly bad side. She had gotten the cats’ water dish out of storage. Like everything else—including the cats—their usual water dish had been stolen.

Now she sat on the bed and watched him, her eyes a dead stare.

“You want some water?” she asked sweetly.

February 9, 2008

La Madera Verde

I sat on a hard plastic chair, reading an old issue of Life magazine, when I saw familiar faces coming down the hall.

Lacey, flanked by Mikey and Carl.

I stood, surprised, and watched them approach.

“How is she?” Lacey asked, hugging me tightly. Too tightly.

I exchanged awkward glances with Mikey and Carl, then said to Lacey, “They say she’s going to be all right, but she’s still critical.”

“How did this happen?” Lacey wanted to know.

We all sat down as I explained the story of Renal stealing all our money and possessions, and us catching Melendez to find out where she and Jordache disappeared to.

“…and when I got back to the room, there she was…”

Jammin' on the One

The shadowy maw of the semi-defunct Lunaria Jazz Bar stretched what felt like a mile high. I gazed at the foreboding doors before taking tentative steps forward, pulling the old-fashioned wrought-iron door handles, and stepping inside.

I was greeted by the siren sound of piano-led smooth jazz and the pungent but delectable scent of tobacco smoke. Since Santa Monica’s smoking ban, the faux-managers of the Lunaria have found a way to spice dry-ice fog with a rich tobacco scent. It gives the Lunaria an old-timey feel. Also, as a former heavy smoker (who quit because of a pregnancy scare with Margo, which itself turned out to be a ploy to get me to stop smoking), the ability to harmlessly take in that odor in a shabby, poorly ventilated jazz bar makes me happier than I can put into words.

While it’s true that the Lunaria closed in 2006, a certain sect of the clientele has seen to taking it over, keeping it open 24 hours a day (so they can squat), and ensuring everybody has as good a time as possible.

I wasn’t here to have a good time, and it was written all over my face. Smiles faded when patrons caught a glimpse of me. Even with the amplified music, I could hear people whispering about me. Did they know me? Had they kept up with the blog? Did they know what happened to Margo?

February 10, 2008

Peet's

I “borrowed” one of Margo’s credit cards to rent an inconspicuous car, which I took up Ventura to the first address Tommy had given me. It’s a nice little coffee shop called Peet’s, which I’ve been to several times I recommend their americanos. Nobody in Southern California has espresso as smooth and flavorful—not even Tully’s.

February 11, 2008

Fallout

When I got back to the hospital, Carl was waiting with Mikey, Riffs, and Lacey. My head was killing me. I made the mistake of glancing at myself in the mirror; it’s all swollen and bruised. I no longer look the rock star part. I may need reconstructive surgery. We’ll see when the swelling goes down.

February 13, 2008

Recuperation

Margo’s resting comfortably at our room in the Days Inn. She’ll be ready to fly to Minneapolis with us tomorrow. I’ve just been making the final arrangements, like double-checking our bookings (so we don’t run into the same problems we did on our last tour) and buying new instruments.

I hope to see a lot of fans out there and Club 3 Degrees tomorrow night, even though the Weather Channel is saying it’ll only three degrees.

Written by Girth McDürchstein on February 13, 2008 5:19 PM
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