Ahh...remember when I sent you these e-mails?:

In the next few days, you will receive a special e-mail from Life in A
Blender regarding a most special show on Feb 2. You must congratulate yourself on
receiving this e-mail regarding that show. You are the lucky one who has popped
out of the net—slithering from the hordes being hauled up from the weighty
ocean. You alone stand miraculously in the spotlight. Or is that the light that
keeps the French fries warm? No….That's the spotlight. You have been
recognized for your "individuosity." You're not just individual, you're really good at
it. And you have looks to spare. When admirers see you sashay down the
street, they watch you from behind and never say, "There goes the can of the Cave
Bear." Too svelte for mockery! Never smells like crockery. That should be your
campaign slogan, in fact. "Too svelte for mockery! Never smells like crockery!"
To hear a crowd scream that at you as you shrink to the size of a tiny raisin
waving from the caboose of a train as it dips over the horizon. You can
picture it. I can see you can picture it. Here, I am. I am just an e-mail but I can
see right now—what you're thinking….what you're wearing. An e-mail that can
see? Well, it's true. Step a little closer, won't you? I'm not modest in the
least Why should you be? Do you feel awkward becoming so close to an e-mail?
There, there. Don't be upset. Don't cry. Come a little closer. Let me, an
e-mail, comfort you. That's it. Just a little bit closer. You can sit on me if
you like. Why not? I'm just an e-mail on your screen. Why don't you sit on me?
No one's looking. It will be fun. This is just what the doctor ordered. And
you've wanted this for such a long time. To sit on your e-mail. Can dreams come
true, can't they? Give it a go. Take the bobby pins from your hair and climb
aboard. Few have done it. Think how proud you'll feel. And if your boss sees
you, he'll probably say, "Slide over and let me show you how it's done!" And
there you will both be sitting on me, bonding, as you accept his offer for a
desk perched at the highest most possible position in the company. So go ahead.
Sit on your old friend e-mail. It will change your life. And don't forget I'll
be back to you soon regarding Life In A Blender on February 2. I'll be back,
that is, if you ever finish sitting on me.

******
The furniture is all hand-hewn by mad men. You'll feel like you're sitting
in a contraption created for the movie Saw III. Or you may feel like a young
Orville Wright, the wind racing through his moustache, soaring over the white
beaches
—an out-of-breath, vengeful Wilbur beneath him.
I can see Wilbur now, trotting along, teeth gritted, stretching his hand,
shall we say? Trying to grab hold. And imagine the sound he'd be making at that
moment.
It's heartbreaking.

It's just that the BAM furniture is so unique.
Picture the slab on which Dr. Frankenstein cobbled together a reanimated
being from a duffel bag full of assorted human body parts. Now imagine sitting on
that duffel bag.
Feels kind of……delicious, doesn't it?
Revolutionary? Sure.
In sync with the fashions of 2007? Ahead of its time.
Able to massage you when reanimated? You tire me already.
So close your eyes
Relax
And for a brief minute
Think
Think about
Being
Massaged
By a bag full of body parts that will soon be the monster Frankenstein
Can a spa offer you that?
No
Only the furniture at the BAM Café


That's why you really should come to this show.

I will write you again. And when I do it won't be a time for tiddly winks and
other children's games. Sometimes you have to suit up in full military
regalia and leave your toddle-togs swinging on the bedpost.
It will be the time for you to step up and think about everything I've just
said in this
e-mail.


****

I can still see Jane Goodall in the jungle gingerly offering cigars to those
primates and taking their headshots for a spot on Lancelot Link. But we're
here to talk about your old shalale. Let's give it a little air and sunlight. A
little bowl of water would be nice. That's quite a shalale you have and to see
you put it in a bowl of water makes me proud to be your friend. You're not
such a bad person afterall. Being disliked doesn't make you bad. Don't worry. On
St. Patrick's Day you're bound to make a friend. His arm will be draped over
your neck all night. Hear his voice: "Hi best friend. Next time I see a
rainbow I'm going to take it from the sky, distill it, drink it and make you a
little rainbow of my own. It may be mushier than some of God's rainbows. But
hey....what's that on your shoe? Is that one of my rainbows?" And then he holds out
his pinky so you can link yours with his. "Friends forever?" And you'll say,
"TFF."
****

The Daily News says: "It's an event worth cheering....The lyrics have a
clever sense of purpose and the band's orchestrated music is a covert beauty. "

Bad Friend Times says, "You'd be a horrible friend if you missed this show.
For Thomas Crapper's sake, when is the last time you went to a Blender show?
They worked really hard on this album—you could at least come to this one show!
And they're playing with the raunchalicious Jesus H. Christ and the Horsemen
of the Apocalypse, appearing with their full horn section. Plus, it's St.
Patrick's Day. Patty loves you, man. Come on. Let's have some of black stuff
together. And I don't mean the drippings that have accumulated in the pan
underneath Cheney's soul or Pete Rose's underwear."

Face Cramp News says, "I get a big face cramp just thinking about you being
there."

The Servant's Tablet says, "You'll feel like you're at our holiday party in
the root cellar near the main house."

The Mocking Lisping Fainting Prostitute say, "Wait...I'll need my jewelerth
loop to thee that...that...that...[clunk]."

Saint Patrick says, "I am Patrick, a sinner, most uncultivated and least of
all the faithful and despised in the eyes of many.....so you want to hang out
sometime?"

and then he says,

"That's no bagpipe...but don't stop playin!!"

The Fifth Guinness says, "Here's to our wives and girlfriends: May they never
meet!"

The Self-Loving Astronaut says, "Let's start the countdown to touching
myself! You won't believe what happens after Zero!"

What Happens After Zero says, "You'll feel like you just rode
Seabiscuit.....through the car wash.....with your wives and girlfriends. Let's hope
Seabiscuit and them never meet. Who am kidding?!?! They love Seabiscuit. Hey, Saint
Patty! Let's kick some butt!"

Alfred from Batman says, "I'm sorry Mr. Wayne but this is the one hour a week
I have to myself at the city pool. You'll have to pull the Joker's
laugh-thistles out yourself.....with your own tweezers."
(And with his new found courage, Alfred abruptly grabs the tweezers from the
Batman's hand, swivels on his heel, and walks three desolate miles down a long
tunnel. Camera zooms in on the Batman. His face registers panic, followed by
smug self-assurance. The Batman holds his glove in front of his nose, and
slowly rising, mysteriously from his glove, are another pair of tweezers. He
reaches back and begins struggling, trying to pull out another thistle. His
expression is emotionless.
The silence is broken by the Batman's whisper:
"Go for your swim, Alfred....uhh!"
[The Batman pulls out a thistle from his backside...he plunks it in a large
jar full of thistles.}
"Leave me here alone...uhh!"
[Another thistle plucked and dropped into the jar.]
"But I know something you don't Alfred...uhh!
[one more plucked and plunked]
"You forgot your swim trunks....uhhhh!"
[and with that final "uhhhh," the Batman has plucked a pair of swim trunks
from somewhere and they dangle before him on the end of his tweezers.]


Plus: Come early and break into a cold sweat with Uncle Moon at 7 pm.

You can get the CD online at
www.cdbaby.com/cd/lifeinablender3
or
www.fangrecords.com