Darlene has taken to dressing like a Country Western Singer. Tight jeans belted at the waist with a gingham shirt tucked in tight over her new enormous fluffy breasts. Big bouncy curls of bleached blond hair and over-sized dark glasses hide the fresh surgery scars on her brightened up tightened up face. She plans to snag herself a husband.

"What does a man look for in a woman?" she coyly asks the middle-aged man in the room down the hall. "He wants a young fresh piece of ass!" he taunts, and she believes him and tries to be younger and fresher as hard as she can. She sets her coffee cup on the vanity next to the tubes of make-up and fashion mistakes in her bedroom off the hall. She is well acquainted with the dark side of 50.

"Denim is so youthful!" she exclaims when seeing it on a woman 20 years her junior. So she skips out to K-Mart for a pair of Fashion Jeans in which to tuck her Tanya Tucker butt. "Are my thighs too big?" she fishes as she faces her butt to the mirror turning her head like an owl to view her behind. "No, you look like a starvation victim in a life jacket." I drolly offer through a mouth full of fat-free pound cake. My feet are dangling off her bed. My coffee grows cold in the chipped mug on the French Provincial bureau. She has not given the mirror a rest.

"If you open your eyes wide when you smile it gives you a nice youthful look." She says while sipping her fourth cup of hot black coffee. I reflect on the fact that with her eyes screwed open like that she looks like a blond from Gamma V on an old Star Trek episode. I let that observation slide as I gape at her in fascination.

We live in a cheap rooming house decorated with a collection of D&K kitsch. Most of the place is covered by a brown marbled shag rug worn thread bare, as painful to the eyes as it is to the feet...but at least you can't see the coffee stains. My door is directly opposite Darlene's, we share the bathroom and the kitchen down the hall with others who seem relatively normal, in their formal greetings of "Good Morning" and "Good Evening" as they pour their coffee from the communal party sized pot. Nothing there to explore, unlike the likes of Darlene.

Darlene has a framed photo of Jesus himself over her bureau. How they photographed Jesus I have not yet figured out, but it's definitely Him, according to Darlene. If there were an electrical outlet near by she would plug in this icon so everyone could see his eyeballs light up like Ever Ready flashlights, illuminating the way to salvation.

Jesus promised Darlene a rich and powerful husband once she became "the best that she could be". He tells her everything. She admits to being the Lord's confessor. Darlene has more insight than any ordinary mortals. She's a prophet. She writes personal letters to the Pope asking him to send down an edict declaring, in his infallible way, that priests be allowed to marry.

"What does a man look for in a woman?" she questions the priest at her parish while batting her painted-in-peacock-blue eyes. He tells her to cultivate her mind. She comes home with arms full of magazines; People, Lady's Home Journal, Cosmopolitan, and Glamor. When I come into the house she accosts me with information on the president's personal life or the latest conspiracy theories. She asks me whose legs I find more attractive... Mrs. Obama or Sarah Palin while she pushes the picture with both hands into my face. She has already formulated her educated opinion based on hours of weighing the choices. Out loud of course. I wear a Walkman most days.


Darlene does not aim low...she has her eye on the Bishop. In fact, she says the Lord has promised him to her. Darlene has passed this information along to her perspective beau. She says that he was not alarmed. He is more Christ-like than wise thought I. She invokes her Bishop by his first Christian name.

"I went to midnight mass on Christmas dressed like Evita, you know, red lipstick, a flashy purple dress - sexy but not revealing - and my new fake fur mink coat." "How did the Bishop react?" I questioned with sincere curiosity. Darlene laughed and reported, "He was so nervous! When I walked up to him he just skittered away like a scarred adolescent boy. He's so charming! I think I make him nervous." "I'll bet you do." was my only response.

Darlene is distressed when people think she's crazy. "I am not crazy, just different." she says as she sits crossed legged on her bed with her fifth cup of hot coffee. And who am I to argue? But, Darlene cries... a lot. She talks to herself and answers, sometimes in another voice. When confronted with this information she explains that it's the voice of God.

"I'm not crazy, just different." she says to the paramedic as he escorts her gently to the ambulance, a blood soaked kitchen towel wrapped around her wrists bandaging shallow slices made with her rosary crucifix. Her hair is perfect, her lipstick traces her lips like a child's first perfect coloring page, and her breasts bounce with her deliberate gate. Her coffee travel mug is filled and screwed up tight.

"What does a man look for in a woman?" she asked the young man in her best Evita-like voice.

I write therefore I am. I don't know when I first felt the need to write down my thoughts… maybe when my thoughts got too big for my head. Momma always said, "Little girl, big ideas" but she did not mean that as a compliment. "Big ideas" meant that I didn't know my place… thought I was too good for my station in life. So I wrote my version of life instead.

There were the practiced conversations in my head that lead to witty repartee I never got to say because I was too shy to begin. But in my head I was Dorothy Parker with her quick and fabulous wit sitting at the Algonquin Table creating the words that would someday become so famous they would be cliché… and this before I even knew who Dorothy Parker was…

All those thoughts, those revelations and remarks I was not quick enough to make became the stuff that poems were made of. And the painful expressions of a troubled life became the twisted views of a comic woman who was never beautiful enough to get away with being dull or helpless. So I helped myself to the world of words where I could reshape reality and it would suit me at last.

All these words available to one self taught writer who read voraciously to learn the ways of phrase… Eastside unsophisticated girl who still uses words wrong because she never actually heard them said in her neck of the woods… you can take the girl out of Lovejoy but it's hell to get the Lovejoy out of the girl.

But now and then I get to infiltrate the mind of my reader and intermingle with his ideas. A word or two may get though his ether and permeated his thoughts as subtle as poisoned gas, more powerful than a locomotive, able to leap tall buildings at a single bound… look up in the sky, it's a bird, it's a plane… no, it's that little girl with big ideas.

The R Train

I settle into the dark sling of your wounded eye.
I creep between the worried folds in your forehead.
I am the sorrow of your shallow breath,
the heartbeats uneven
there is no one keeping time.
The burden of a lifetime makes your skin fall
in heavy folds around your bones,
your weight is equal to your ache.
One ton of motionless sitting in the R train,
face after hopeless face of disaster
a race of faces detached from their souls.
This is the apocalypse
these beasts go to slaughter
in a market where their meat has no value.
The hooks are in them,
these animals without enough fight to take back their hides.
What is this epidemic?
Everyone capitulating to agony,
these spotty sallow one-celled monsters
I cannot look away from this reflection
of my own disconnected soul.
And my own misshapenness fascinates me
like a two headed baby in a jar.
We are all traveling on the R train
as the meaning pours out our bodies like the last purge of death.

August Ocean

Like the hot wind of an August ocean
I hear the sound of the sea
as your warm mouth, like a shell,
covers my ear.
The pulse of tides
of heart beats rising,
pulling,
wearing down rock.
The heat rushes over me in waves
as I lift to each caress
in undulating motion.
This ocean of flesh
damp as the skins of eels
we peel back our raiment.
The pull of tides,
the moon full and fretful
watches through the blinds
while we flood like an act of God.


I Could be anyone

I built a house of matchsticks
and was surprised to watch it burn.
So frail these imaginary sparks of flint…
the flash of eyes and skim of skin
where meaning is read like definitions in Braille.
I failed to feel the footnotes
where each word meant something else
and my language was insufficient to catch the nuance.
I am not fluent in lyrics;
I do not speak riddle
or the indirect dialect of agenda.
I want to hear the word in my tongue
so I can store it in a place inside that remembers
we do not speak the same language
we are not cut from the same cloth.
I need you like strange oxygen.
I have let you into my lungs and now I can't exhale.
You need me only to convince you
that you're worth the trouble…
no matter what,
and you are.
But unlike my need for you,
I could be anyone…
and I am.


Why I Write Poetry

For the flesh is made word
and the word dwells inside me...
mine...
each line as I close my eyes and relive sensation
and give it names.

And the flesh is made verbal
as the sounds rise like guttural cries
in the clamor of birth and death
from the source of utterance,
noise of the soul.

White light given voice
in choice of syllable and sound
wound round a base of idea
that is texture of a remembered moment.

Words that emit colors
present only behind my eyes as I press on the lids
and watch the native shades of my soul
in whole colors that live in dreams that no one else can see.

See me in these words
know how it feels to live in my flesh
and think within the limitations of my mind
and for a moment
be me
so that I don't have to
be,
alone.

Roughage Riders

The evolution of the human body has not caught up with our eating habits. In the last century and a half human lifestyles have changed rapidly with the Industrial Revolution and the Computer Age. I believe that our bodies have only evolved to around the year1850. One hundred fifty year ago people got lots of physical activity. In those days, modern conveniences were things like the horse drawn plow that took Grandpa out of the harness. Refined foods were rare and people ate boiled whole grains as side dishes. Vegetables were seasonal and dried lentils and beans were staples that got the populous through the lean winter months. We do not have "lean months" any more. Hell, you can get fresh pineapple and guava in February and Mighty Taco tm is in season all year long.

In about two trillion years humans may be able to eat whatever we want without gaining weight because we will have the metabolism of gerbils. For all you cringing scientists out there, this is only a theory… like Gravity or The Big Bang. However, I think I am on to something because my brother-in-law, who claims to be pretty high up on the evolutionary ladder, can already eat whatever he wants without gaining weight.

Our nutritional needs are based on energy required for activity and body functions. Calories are the unit of measure for the energy to successfully carry out our body's work. During the holiday season, unless you plan to run from Buffalo to Denver and back again, chances are you have taken in more energy than you will expend. In fact, you are probably taking in more than you are putting out every day of your life… hence, the need for elastic waistbands.

In the mid 19th Century empty calories were almost unknown… the small amount of sugar consumed by an individual would not account for a large portion of caloric intake and the foods were whole and loaded with fiber. Foods rich in fiber have higher food value as compared to processed white flour or white rice. Aside from the higher nutritional value, a diet rich in fiber helps food pass efficiently through the digestive system. This promotes regularity that in turn helps to protect us from some types of cancer, particularly colon cancer. So how do you know if you are getting adequate fiber and running a clean machine? Turn around and look… your poop will float. I am not making this up.

A healthy diet should contain 25 to 35 grams of dietary fiber. The average American diet contains about 11 to 15 grams… and that's for those to try to eat healthy. Fiber is found only in plant foods like fruits, vegetables, grains and legumes. Refined wheat and rice products are very low in fiber. However, you don't need to chew on bark to get additional fiber into your diet. There are things you can do that will increase fiber painlessly.

? Look for whole grain breads with 3 or more grams of fiber per slice. Some bread labels say "Wheat" but they are actually white bread with caramel coloring… it must say "whole wheat."
? Replace an occasional meat meal with beans or lentils. For instance, order a bean burrito instead of beef at Mighty Taco tm. There are 9 grams of fiber in an average bean burrito.
? Eat a bowl of high fiber breakfast cereal like Good Friends tm by Kashi providing 12 grams of fiber per cup or include 1/3 cup of All-Brantm in your Cocoa Puffs tm, and add 10 grams.
? Experiment with actually cooking fiber rich foods in the privacy of your own home. There are many cookbooks available on the second floor of the Central Library or for the less ambitious; Wegman's has a wide variety of convenience heath foods in their specialty food section for menu items such as tabuli, falafel, and rice and beans.

? Mexican or Indian restaurants feature bean and lentil main dishes for the more adventurous… or go American and order Boston Baked Beans if you fear foreign foods.
? Experiment using whole grains such as barley or kasha (buck wheat groats… don't be afraid of words like "groats") as side dishes. They add flavor as well as good nutrition and fiber to meals.
? Choose bean dip or even guacamole instead of high fat sour cream based chip dips.
? And for all you cheaters… and this is not really recommended but better than nothing… you can have a serving of psyllium husks or milled flax seeds with each under-nourishing meal and add 9-14 grams of fiber to your daily routine. Or get crazy and eat an unpeeled apple or pear after each meal to up the ante to 12 added grams.

I will share one of my all time favorite high fiber recipes with you if you all promise to get a bran muffin instead of banana nut next time you go out for coffee… I trust you guys.

Risi e Bisi Please

1 Tsp olive oil
1/2 cup chopped onion
1 1/3 cups uncooked brown rice
2 2/3 cups hot stock or water
1 cup dry split peas cooked until tender
12 ozs frozen peas - semi thawed
2 Tbls butter
1/2 cup GOOD grated Parmesan
1/2 cup GOOD grated Romano

? In a 3-quart heavy pan, sauté the onions and rice in olive oil. Stir constantly adding a bit more oil if necessary until onions are transparent.
? Stir in hot stock or water, bring to a boil, lower heat as far as possible and simmer covered until the rice is tender and almost all the liquid is absorbed (about 35 to 40 mins).
? Stir in frozen peas and heat through.
? Add the cooked split peas, butter and grated cheeses. Salt and pepper to taste.
? Serve hot while rice is creamy.

This recipe freezes well in small containers and will keep up to a week in the refrigerator, covered.

July 7, 2000

Welcome to our version of Big Brother Television! We are willing to give you the intimate details of our lives as we work and play here together at the Home of the Future. Yes, all the body functions will be caught on camera… let's just call it potty view… all our sex lives will be on display for your viewing pleasure. Hell, we won't be able to fart without our adoring fans knowing the strength and duration of our poot. If that's what America wants that's what America will get! Did you think we were beyond playing to the masses? You must be thinking of other Public Access Shows that are not trying to entertain you…

Live, in every grimy zit popping moment of our existence, from the Home of the Future, It's the Greg Sterlace Show. Starring, Greg Sterlace, the man who wants to catch you adjusting your package, picking your nose, pulling the underwear out of your butt crack, and touching yourself while you stare at our beautiful co-hosts.


July 29, 2000

Golly. I wish I were smart enough to think that by attacking people who don't think like me that I could effect change. And I also wish that I had the motivation and fortitude to, in a self-righteous drunk that only the truly arrogant deserve, accuse people I don't even know of objectionable things for which they stand. But that would take a superior intelligence that I do not possess. Those pompous, pseudo-intellectual, holier than thou megalomaniacs are bigger, more brilliant, and darn it all… just plain better than I am. Maybe someday, if I read ALT from cover to cover I too can pontificate on social issues without actually having to get my hands dirty.

Live, and bloated with self-importance, from The Home of the Future, it's the Greg Sterlace Show. Starring Greg Sterlace a man totally without social consciousness or even social security for that matter.


August 4, 2000

Smmmmmaaaaaaaaacccccccckkkkkk! Hoochie, hoochie, hoochie… click, click, click… Look at the package on that! What's your name you delectable hunka beef? Turn around baby let me see you from behind. Sugar, sugar, sugar. Ohhhhh come here you hunka hunka burning love. Shake your money maker baby and come give momma a little bit of that. Grrrrrrrr, you know you want it. I'd like to rock your world big boy if you know what I mean you crazy cowboy. Ohhhhh what I'd like to do to you! I could make you scream like Friday night fright night. Whoa boy is that a rocket in your pocket coz I'm ready to play Cape Canaveral…

Live, in an equal opportunity environment, from the Home of the Future, it's the Greg Sterlace Show! Staring Greg Sterlace the answer to the old question… where's the beef?

August 11, 2000

Hey! Ever hear of Jason Dylik… Well, he's a medical student who's supposed to be going somewhere like Brooklyn or something, imagine that Brooklyn, well anyway while he's been here in Buffalo he's been working on The Greg Sterlace Show and in his spare time he drives around in some kind of emergency vehicle like an ambulance or something, but any way, he's here now and he keeps saying that he has to go to Brooklyn but the guy never leaves it's like he keeps showing up on Friday nights, well don't get me wrong, he's a nice guy and everything and we've kinda gotten use to him being around but we're all getting a little suspicious that this Brooklyn place doesn't really exit, you know like a fantasy place in a Science Fiction novel or something, actually, come to think of it, maybe Jason Dylik doesn't exist, it's entirely possible you know because there is a whole block of evidence that says that none of us really exist and we're all computer generated images or was that a movie, no matter, we're here now and so is Jason Dylik, he says that this is his last day on the show but we're all taking bets that he's going to extend it for at least one or two more weeks because frankly we are so much darned fun he is having a difficult time getting to Brooklyn and on with his life, if your listening Jason Dylik all of us here on the crew are going to get really old some day and need free medical attention so get out there and become a doctor so we can know at least one person who makes a living out of the single digits… Hey Jason, could you look at this open oozing sore I have here on my ankle… it doesn't look good, is flesh supposed to glow in the dark?

Live, in the mother of all run ons, from The Home of the Future, it's the Jason Dylik… er, sorry… Greg Sterlace Show! Starring Greg Sterlace in one long run on life.

August 18, 2000

Ode to our Fan Lisa in California

Alas, poor Jason we knew him well, and hope on him you do not dwell, for we have other hunky men, who may entice you now and again. Why not try John our silicon wit, in highbrow realms he is a hit, so handsome, suave, and debonair, he has his teeth and all his hair. Our Gregory is quite a score, here less is less and more is more, he's smart and thinks outside the box, he too has all his teeth and locks. And then of course there's our own Richard, a sensitive man of measured word, he doesn't own a loud sport shirt, nor does he ever dish the dirt. He's brilliant, warm, and kind, no better man will you ever find. So Lisa we don't want to lose you, because Jason has left and made you blue, focus on our other man meat, to keep you in your rutting heat.

Live, at least we know we're playing for Lisa, from The Home of The Future, it's the Greg Sterlace Show, starring Greg Sterlace the real man in the moon.

August 25, 2000

Should old acquaintance be forgot and never brought to mind?
Suzanne was so pristine and clean, no trace of bump and grind
For olden days of dogs and beer,
for days of long lost mind
we'll play a game of hockey dear
for auld lang syne.

And here's our hand our trusted friend
as we kick out your behind
we'll put you in the old Crown Vic
and take you for a ride.

For auld lang syne, Suzanne,
for auld lang syne
we'll keep your photo on the wall
so turn down your blasted cryin'

Live, in the cruel and unusual environment of The Home of the Future, it's the Greg Sterlace Show. Staring Greg Sterlace, the man who thinks of women as fine tobacco as he chews them up then spits them out.


September 8, 2000

Sung to "I Wish They All Could Be California Girls"

Well the Eastside boys are rough
they never wash those clothes they wear
and the South town boys with the way they pose
they really plaster back their hair.

The West Side has the guidos
yeah those boys all have great tans
and the Amherst boys with the way they drive
they'll knock you down with their minivans

I wish they all could be Tonawanda boys
I wish they all could be Tonawanda boys
I wish they all could be Tonawanda boys

Those bad boys have the Harley's
and they all have neck tattoos
I dig a pair of wranglers belted at the groin
and a butt crack bend and view.

There's nothing like the feeling
when you're strolling hand in hand
with enough black leather to rebuild a cow
they are the grandest in the land.

I wish they all could be Tonawanda boys
I wish they all could be Tonawanda boys
I wish they all could be Tonawanda boys

September 15, 2000

Warning: This show contains adult material that is not suitable for immature audiences. Individuals who are offended by profanity and/or sexually explicit humor should not view this particular episode which profiles a well-known entertainer whose music contains sexually graphic lyrics.

This here is the amazing maze of the man who calls himself Dr. Dirty. And as we wander is coiling corridors searching for John Valby we contemplate the man and the myth. Some men are born to sleaze, some aspire to sleaze, and some have sleaze thrust upon them. The rocking and rolling John Valby of Charles non-fame and non-fortune found himself crotch deep in sleaze with drunken horny lunatics trying their eagle-scout best to shove crisp five dollar bills into his BVD's. Rock and Roll may not pay the milkman but catchy little numbers about coital penetration do, by Jove! At lease enough to live the eclectic life a guy who does not care much for the newfangled electric lights but has enough digital high tech paraphernalia to take down a Boeing 747 on sheer electrical drag. Tonight we got ourselves nothing less than that John Valby, Doctor Dirty himself. So pop a molly and get ready for the bump and grind to begin…

Live, in our riskiest show ever, from the Home of the Future, It's the Greg Sterlace Show! Starring, Greg Sterlace, the next best thing to being there!

September 22, 2000

Dear Ms. Lonely Hearts,

Can you please help me find my boyfriend? We were out on the Chippewa strip last weekend and I went to powder my nose in the Ladies room. When I came out I couldn't remember which one he was. He changes his hair color quite a bit but I don't think he went to the men's room and changed it in the few minutes I was gone. My girlfriends set up an official line-up for me and hell, three or four of them could have been Charlie. What's a girl to do?

Signed,
Lost

Dear Lost,

What difference does it actually make? Walk up to one of those other stud muffins after he's had a few vodka martinis and claim to be his girlfriend. Chances are he'll believe you walked into his life during one of his frequent black outs. However, to avoid this problem in the future I suggest you talk him into an unusual facial tattoo so you can keep tabs on him. And it will skyrocket him into the realm of a designer male!

Live, in the pickling jar we call the Home of the Future, it's the Greg Sterlace Show. Starring Greg Sterlace a man you could never lose in a crowd. God I love that man!

Sunday, August 19, 2007


After my storm has passed

my bicycle and I were running

to go out

to find the update nature near our house



One man was holding the hose for watering

Summer flowers caught the glittering pieces of lights

With the invitation of the scent like the beginning of the first rain

The wind, my bicycle and I rode on the car named "Back To The Past~~~!"



The rock and roll sounds by cicadas

Dabble in water

My dad and Mom

My kids

My merry giggling & splash of blue drops



The time flies back to you suddenly

Your telephone call comes to me

"Where are you now? I'm starving~~~"



Er...I'm taking a shower (of sunshine)~~~! Please wait for me for a while~

POEM BY TAKAKO
http://blog.myspace.com/i_takako

April 21, 2000

Hello all you automobile drivers out there who think you are invisible once you enter the temple of your own car. Did any of you ever stop to think that there are windows EVERYWHERE in your vehicle? So, why do you think that you can shove your finger up your nose, dig around for a protracted period of time, remove some sort of refuse from the nasal orifice, and dispose of it in a morbidly disgusting manner and no one will see you? It is not the actual picking of the nose that is grotesque but the deposition of the mined material that puts the act over the top. None of the choices are pleasant. There is the classic fling that means the sticky thing could end up anywhere including my windshield or your person. There is the nasty idea that this could be something good to eat and like anything that is removed from your body should be swallowed whole. And finally, there is the wipe it on something solution. The common instinct here is to wipe underneath something where no one will see it. Great. Thanks for you kind consideration. So kids, what I'm really trying to say is buy yourself a box of tissues and blow. Or, wait until you are somewhere where I don't have to witness this religious experience up close and personal.

Live, with our fingers shoved up our noses way into our nasal cavities, from The Home of The Future, it's The Greg Sterlace Show. Starring, Greg Sterlace, a man who has no visible nose hair.


April 28, 2000

Who was the first imbecile to come up with the brilliant idea of running a razor over an entire third of your body to remove otherwise invisible hair from your legs? The shaving of the legs, a ridiculous act that results in smooth legs for approximately 12 hours. What is the point? I'm not saying that I am defying decorum by letting the hair on my own legs grow in but I would like to know who made this necessary in the first place. Was it some extraordinarily hairy woman who didn't want to test a fragile male ego by being hairier than he was? Was it an obsessive-compulsive clean freak who also shaved off her eyebrows and pubic hair? Or was it simply decided by the same breed of man who thought women might like pantyhose? We'll never know so pass the lilac shave gel and get the Band-Aids ready…

Live, barely, from the Home of the Future, it's the Greg Sterlace Show. Starring, Greg Sterlace, a man who is devoted to his own body hair.

Mary 26, 2000

There is no free lunch. However, if you wait long enough into the year you CAN get a free Calendar. As I was checking out of my local "Cheap Junk" store, with my collection of 99-cent shampoo and slightly expired canned nuts I got an offer I could not refuse. The friendly check out clerk told me that because I had spent over $10, this fine establishment was going to show its
appreciation by giving me a six month old calendar absolutely FREE. I offered the clerk my slant on the situation, "In other words, 'We have these leftover ugly calendars that are almost totally useless that no one will actually buy, so could you do us a favor and carry one out of here so we don't have to do it ourselves?'" She smiled and pointed to a stack of calendars with a disproportionate amount revealing a particularly beefy African American man in various stages of undress. There were also several depicting scenes of the American West and a couple of a badly drawn cutesy girl character with inane captions. I reached for the beefy black guy. I gave it to my mother for Mother's Day. It beat the shit out of a potted lily.

Live, in an atmosphere free of guile, from the Home of the Future, it's the Greg Sterlace Show. Starring, Greg Sterlace, a beefy white guy in various stages of undress.

June 2, 2000

Did you ever notice how we all walk around thinking that we know what other people are thinking? Just the other day when I was walking through the supermarket parking lot when I noticed a man was angling through the lot trying to catch up with me. I was not in the mood to be hit on so I adopted my 'don't you dare talk to me you male swine' attitude in an attempt to ward off his attentions. In turn he misinterprets my movements as fear and calls out to me, "Don't you worry the black boy is not going to rob your ass!" Now, not only am I mildly disappointed that he didn't find me irresistible but I am also incensed that he was presumptuous enough to think he knew what I was thinking! Until, of course I realized that I presumed to know what HE was thinking. Don't think about any of this too long… it can cause multiple head injuries.

Live, that is if it's not all going on in our heads, from the Home of the Future, it's the Greg Sterlace Show. Starring, Greg Sterlace, a head-trip to the outer reaches of consciousness.

June 9, 2000

Whether we know it or not we all carry around a prototype of the person we ideally want to be deep in the recesses of our subconscious. In the old days when there was no television or movies our role models used to be our parents. God forbid. Last night while I was standing around in a nightclub full of people I tired to figure out why I felt like an outsider in a room full of women who all seemed to fit in… like pieces in a very distinct puzzle. Then it hit me… my prototype is more like Audrey Hepburn and it was standing in a room full of Courtney Loves. I started thinking about prototypes of my friends and family and I almost understood something very important about humanity. I said ALMOST… I have a very short attention span.

Live, like a prototype of a late night talk show, from the home of the future, it's the Greg Sterlace Show. Starring Greg Sterlace, role model for the up and coming high school graduates for the class of 2000!

June 16, 2000

Yeeeeee Haaaaaa! We got us a live one here boys get us some rope and chain saw and we'll take him apart in sections. We got us a real live editor… one of them brainiac, intellectual book-learnin' candy ass boys that thinks they's better than us decent family folk. Those citified uppity snot nosed writer types with their sharpened 2 pencils and lap top contraptions… wait 'til he gets a load of us! We'll give you something to write about in yer commie newspaper! Write about this sucker (sound effect of punch) and this (another punch)… can you squeal like a pig for us Mr. Editor-in-chief (sound effect of a pig squealing)? Boy, you sure do got a purdy mouth.

Live, don't you just feel the adrenaline coursing through your veins Jeff?… from the Home of the Future, it's The Greg Sterlace Show. Starring, Greg Sterlace, your personal Deliverance from the Ideal.

June 24, 2000

As I was perusing my CD club newsletter looking for some music that I like but do not yet own so I can fulfill my minimum buying obligation to the club and quit … Oh my god I'm digressing before I even started gressing at all. Anyway, I noticed an item in the Easy Listening section that caught my curious eye. Someone in marketing decided to list Pope John Paul II's Abba Pater as an easy listening selection. What the hell is Abba Pater anyway? Wasn't Abba a mediocre Scandinavian band from the 70's that sang in phonetic English? And patter means to chatter glibly or mechanically. So is Pope John Paul II glibly reciting bad Euro-rock lyrics in a monotone voice? This does not sound likely. Maybe "Abba Pater" means Greatest Hits in Latin. Somehow it takes all the beef out of papal infallibility.

Live, in total omnipotence, from the Home of the Future, it's the Greg Sterlace Show. Starring Greg Sterlace, yet another religious leader who's in a band.

June 30, 2000

Today I passed a 24-hour drive-thru donut shop. Civilization as we know it will be crashing to ground at any moment. I'm pretty sure that 24-hour donut drive-thru's are what caused the fall of the Mayans. There is nothing wrong with civilization per se. Democracy was a nifty idea but the cultivation of a decadent culture that creates a 24-hour donut shop where you don't even have to leave your car is the step that leads to the fall of empires. What would compel you to frequent a 24-hour drive-thru donut shop? "Oh my! It's 3:30 in the morning and I simply can't live without a donut… stash the hash pipe and we'll go to the 24-hour donut store! Don't bother putting on your pants we'll use the drive through!" Move over Caligula here we come!

Live, but nearly deceased from arteries clogged with Bavarian cream, from the Home of the Future, it's the Greg Sterlace Show. Starring, Greg Sterlace, the man who will single-handedly bring us back to our senses.

January 7, 2000

Since we have Steve Powell the beer expert here today, I decided to cover the long neglected topic of the most important by-product of beer production; beer farts. It's a fact of life kiddies, everybody's doing it. And considering the magnitude of beer consumption on this planet don't you think that blaming the hole in the ozone on cow farts is a bit species-centric? It's as wrong as blaming the dog but on a global scale. Own up to it citizens of the Earth. It is you, the human methane machine guzzling your brewskis and passing on the consequences to the human race. I, personally, have nothing against breaking wind. It's as natural as the intestinal casings on better quality hot dogs. Let's just start taking responsibility for our actions! Hey… anybody out there got a match? This monologue is dedicated to the epitome of class and style, Dennis Dickman.

Live, under the hole in the ozone, from the Home of the Future, it's the Greg Sterlace Show! Staring Greg Sterlace, the man who is saving the world from ignorance, one agonizing life at a time

January 21, 2000

Sung to the tune of "These Are a Few of My Favorite Things"

Frostbite on noses and hard frozen kittens
Fingers that chip off and fall into mittens
pigeons can't fly with that ice on their wings
these are a few inescapable things.
Old people falling and breaking their asses
firm frozen nose goo on bushy mustaches
Twelve layers of clothing and still the cold stings
These are a few inescapable things!
When the frost bites when the wind zings
when we want to cry
we sadly reflect inescapable things
and wish that we all could die!

Live, but in the suspended animation of a Buffalo deep freeze, from The Home of the Future, it's the Greg Sterlace Show! Staring Greg Sterlace, the sunshine of our lives!

January 28, 2000

Tonight we have our predictions for the year 2000. This year we predict that it will be very cold until sometime in late May and then slowly get warmer through the summer months. We also predict that sometime in November the United States will acquire a new leader. This leader will be male, over the age of 35, and about as useless as tits on a bull. We will also go out on a limb and say that several airplanes will crash and people will be killed. Terrorists will blow up something big and body parts will hail for acres. Some major movie star will die… maybe Bob Hope or a younger one who has a nasty drug habit because he can afford one. Some well-respected female dignitary will have nude photos of herself pop up on the Internet. Maybe Hilary Clinton's college sweetheart will clean out his dusty old memorabilia trunk and find those shots he took while she was tripping on acid. And our final prediction for this year is that you, our studio audience, will continue to crave our peculiar brand of nonsense and make us all so stupid rich that we end up owning new cars and a chain of mediocre Scandinavian restaurants.

Live, since you haven't yet figured out that we're lying, from The Home of The Future, it's the Greg Sterlace Show! Starring Greg Sterlace, the next best thing to being there.
February 4, 2000

A Valentine Poem

Will you be my valentine?
Will you love me like you're blind?
Through all the crap that I might pull,
through all the lying… all the bull?
Will you be my valentine?
and promise always to be mine?
No matter where your willy goes
regardless whom you try to hose?
Will you be my valentine?
I'll keep it simple, will not whine
'coz all I'm really after here's
a box of candy sweetest dear.
Will you be my valentine?
Could you give me just a sign?
What else is going on that day
on a Monday in February anyway?

Live, with all the love in our dark little hearts, from the Home of the Future, it's the Greg Sterlace Show. Starring, Greg Sterlace, Cupid's answer to Who Wrote the Book of Love.

February 11, 2000

Hello all you consumers out there in TV land. It has come to our attention that there is a new interactive toy on the market called The Living Doll. Apparently, this doll comes to your child as a helpless infant. You must hold up its head and interact with it and eventually it begins to develop. At first it giggles and coos when you cuddle or tickle it. Next it starts speaking words like "Mama" or "Papa" until eventually it strings them together saying things like "I want to go potty, mama." If you give it care and nurturing it will grow into something to be proud of. However, what happens if you start throwing it against the wall or leaving it in a box in the closet? Will it develop antisocial personality traits? Will it begin to experiment with drugs and alcohol? Will it convince the older dolls to buy it cigarettes and condoms? Chalk this one up to another serious error in judgment for the toy industry.

Live, in an interactive environment like you wouldn't believe, from the Home of the Future, it's the Greg Sterlace Show. Starring, Greg Sterlace, the interactive doll that will get sexually aroused at the least provocation.


February 18, 2000

Tonight I want to give special thanks to Amy Alkon, also known as The Advise Goddess who placed a personal ad in the Los Angeles Times in spite of their "editorial policies". Amy's ad reads: Successful syndicated writergirl; large hooters; I.Q.; with modern ideas about relationships; red hair that matches personality… seeks tall, evolved man of character who sits around thinking for a living… etc. Shame on the Los Angeles Times for not wanting to print the word "hooters" when they have probably advertised for feminine hygiene deodorant or jock itch products. The innocent word "hooters" paints a much prettier mental picture than any words describing foul-smelling or irritated genitalia. I think Amy speaks for all the women in the world who are sick to death of propriety. Let's drop all the politically correct hogwash and get back down to living again! Amy, I solute you my living fearless ball of indiscretion and chutzpah.

Live, in an atmosphere where decorum only speaks to our fine taste in brick façade decorating, from the Home of the Future, it's the Greg Sterlace Show. Starring Greg Sterlace, the man who lives for pictures, both mental and actual, of large hooters.

February 25, 2000

Is there anything more lovely than a beautiful, beautiful flamingo, flying across the sky in front of a beautiful sunset? And look… he's carrying an exquisite rose in his beak. Oh my… he's also carrying a very beautiful painting of a waterfall with a rainbow and butterflies with his feet.

A young man appears out of nowhere and he looks out at all this beauty and ponders the miracles of god and nature. Ah those deep thoughts that ennoble mankind! He thinks to himself… what is it about a beautiful sunset replete with the awe and wonderment of the aura borealis of color and makes you want to get stinking drunk and drive through the country roads with a flash light blowing the heads off deer and other little woodland creatures?

Live, in a twisted morose part of your mind that you should not share with anyone, from the Home of the Future, it's the Greg Sterlace Show. Starring Greg Sterlace coming to you like a deer caught in the headlights.

March 3, 2000

Now that we're in primary season here in the grand old U.S. of A. we on the Greg Sterlace Show feel that it is our duty as stalwart citizens to offer our boundless wisdom to the government of our fair land. Since everyone is so worried about honesty in this presidential crusade why don't we hook up all the candidates to lie detectors as they go off on the campaign trail? Think of how much time and money this could potentially save our voting Americans and the United States of America? Hell, it wouldn't impair anyone's chances of getting elected it would simply clarify the issues once and for all. Let's say someone asked Bush if he planned to raise taxes for low-income families. He might be foolish enough to say "No" and his little truth buzzer would go off. All the people who don't care about taxes being raised would still vote for him. At the same time the poor trusting souls who would otherwise believe the lies would be free to vote for someone else. Why not use the technology we have on hand? Hell, we used DNA to identify gizz on the President's girlfriend's dress! Let's insure that honesty is the best policy.

Live, honest injun, from the Home of the Future, it's the Greg Sterlace Show. Starring, Greg Sterlace, the man who REALLY cut down George Washington's Cherry tree.

March 10, 2000

Today, in honor of St. Patrick's Day I will NOT attempt to talk with a brogue. Once again I cover the popular topic of Christian Mythology. St. Patrick was born in Britain at the end of the forth century. At 16 he was carried off by marauding pagans and sold into slavery in Ireland. He spent a great deal of time with sheep and somehow, through his quality time with livestock, embraced Christianity. After seven years of captivity he had a dream that that if he went to the shore he could escape by sea. It took him seven years to come up with this brainstorm. He returned to his home and family but missed Ireland and/or the flocks. He returned to his land of captivity and was able to convert many peasants to Christianity. My guess is that they humored this big British guy who reeked of sheep holding his shillelagh. "Just tell him you're converted Shamus and he'll go off to the next village and convert them." In St. Patrick's honor we drink green beer, eat heavy fatted foods and parade around in funny hats.

Live, and celebrating our Irish asses off, from The Home of the Future, it's the Greg Sterlace Show. Starring, Gregory O'Sterlace, just ask him and he'll show you his shillelagh.

March 17, 2000

Ahhhh, springtime in Buffalo! For all of us native Buffalonians March 21st means walking through ankle deep slush. It means taking our lives into our own hands by venturing under eaves pregnant with snow accumulation. And finally there is that all important spring cold we get when we try to go out without a jacket in the whopping 55-degree temperatures!

Yes, spring… the time of the year when we find beautiful Robins frozen dead on lawns! When we watch retarded little green dog penises of tulips come up stunted and gnarled like clumps of mutant vegetation as the fickled weather takes a turn for the worst.

Spring, a time of dashed hopes, a time of frostbite, a time of practical jokes inflicted by the Motha' nature as she teases us into asylums for the meteorologically deranged. Yes, the date says spring but the climate says kiss my ass as it continues with its favorite season in spite of expectation.

Live, in a cryogenic environment, from The Home of the Future, it's The Greg Sterlace Show. Starring, Greg Sterlace, the man who lives for the hope of an April thaw.

March 24, 2000

Tonight we examine actual New York State laws that are still on the books. According to the website Dumblaws.com you can be fined $25 for flirting. This law was supposed to protect women from being gawked at on the street. A second conviction will lead to wearing a pair of horse-blinders wherever and whenever he goes out for a stroll. It would be easier not to gawk if women knew that it is illegal for them to be on the street wearing "body hugging clothing." However, they may go topless in public providing it is not being used as a business but remember… no gawking!

Here's one for our stylish cast and crew... in Carmel, New York it is illegal for a man to go outside wearing a jacket and pants that do not match. And let's not leave out the Big Apple where citizens may not greet each other by "putting one's thumb to the nose and wiggling the fingers"

Live, in a lawless vacuum, from The Home of the Future, it's the Greg Sterlace Show. Starring Greg Sterlace the man who greets the world with a rousing one-finger salute!

March 31, 2000

One score and 15 years ago a leader was born into our great land. He was marked with all the signs; a full head of prematurely graying hair, a booming voice, more chutzpa than Billy Bob Clinton relating with a straight face that oral sex is NOT sex, and an ego that can swallow people whole at 50 paces. We have ourselves a candidate here and he's willing to sell his soul to Satan for a chance to rule. Hey, Satan, are you listening? Greg Sterlace does not stand on the issues he sits on them. Greg Sterlace does not want to change the world he wants to own it just the way it is. He is the honest reality in all of us. If you vote for Greg Sterlace you vote for truth and justice or the American Way. You choose. If you want a candidate who thinks tact is a kind of super glue, who thinks diplomacy is a document you get for going to college, and détente is sugarless gum we've got your boy!

Live, shaking out the cobwebs all the way, from the Home of the Future, it's the Greg Sterlace Presidential Campaign! Starring, Greg Sterlace, the next President of the United States of America. Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday Mr. President, happy birthday to you.

September 24, 1999

Hello all you beer-guzzling fans out there in TV land. Go and grab yourself another beverage and listen to this nifty story from Sheffield England. Apparently Mr. Clifton, aged 35, was tying one on with the boys. He put away nearly 12 pints of lager and quite a bit of party punch. Low and behold he passed out. What a surprise. When his equally drunken friends saw him stretched out like a salmon loaf they decided to play a little trick on him. They shaved one side of his head, what a bunch of zany pranksters, then arranged him in compromising positions with one of the boy's inflatable friends and took photos. Anyway, the poses got harder and harder as… you guessed it… rigor mortis set in. Mr. Clifton was deceased. The paramedics said he had probably been dead from acute alcohol poisoning for an hour before they got on the scene. If you haven't thrown that roll of film in the trash yet boys, consider using it to pull in some easy cash off the Internet! Hell, you never know what kind of profit is awaiting the truly debauched.
Live, and yes we are sure of that, from the Home of the Future, it's the Greg Sterlace Show, starring, Greg Sterlace, the prototype for ACME's blow up party companion "Mr. Jolly".

October 1, 1999

Dear Hillary Rodham Clinton,

I received your letter asking for my personal and financial support for your decision to run for U.S. Senate from New York. I am a bit confused. YOU are asking ME for money? Didn't you just buy a house worth over one million dollars? I am not a homeowner because I can't afford to own a home. My income is the amount of your hair salon bill and YOU are asking ME for money?
Listen honey, if I ever decide to move to another state I'll have to move into a room and take a temporary job as a waitress while I look for suitable employment. The audacity to move into someone else's state, decide the job of Senator sounds ducky, and then to buy a house that only 1% of the population of New York State could even consider is enough to make me spew. Public servant my ass!
I don't think it's bad that you aspire to greatness I am just saying that I am not about to shell out my life savings which most likely amounts to what you paid for your last pair of shoes to help you prove that you're smarter than Bill. Hell, everybody knows you're smarter than Bill!
Now that I've aired my feelings about this, how about sending me a little cash? I'm one of those single mothers you're so damned concerned about so let's get some of that assistance up close and personal. Live, yet terribly appalled, from the Home of the Future, it's the Greg Sterlace Show, starring Greg Sterlace, another fine target for urban development funding.

October 8, 1999

I sure don't have to look very far for inspiration these days. Xerox just fired forty employees for using the corporate Internet to access pornographic material. If you ask me, the real problem is masturbation at the workstation. Don't look over the baffle; your co-worker is polishing his hardware. Not that the ladies are blameless, however it is much more difficult for them to access their equipment in their cubicle. I find the fact that a big corporation like Xerox was turned into a masturbatorium quite hilarious. Talk about job satisfaction.
In the old days people at least had the common courtesy to visit the rest room when the spirit moved them. Most people are too polite to question grunts coming out of a stall area. Get a grip America. No wait… I take that back…
Live, grunting and sweating to beat the band, from The Home of the Future, it's the Greg Sterlace Show, starring Greg Sterlace… hey Greg, I hear there's some employment opportunities opening up at Xerox…


October 17, 1999

Happy birthday to me! Happy birthday to me! Happy birthday, happy birthday, happy birthday to me! Yes, tonight's show is all about me, Paula Wachowiak. Greg Sterlace, the darling of public access television, is dedicating a whole show to my poetry. You all know what a huge poetry fan Gregory is don't you? I've personally heard him say that 'poetry sucks' at least 300,000 times in the four years that I've known His Highness. But, as you know, it is difficult to figure out if Greg is pulling your leg or not. He knows way too many poetic references for someone who claims to hate poetry. But, I digress… how did I get back to HIM when THIS show is all about ME? Maybe it's true that all roads lead to Greg.
Live, in an alternative universe, from The Home of The Future, it's the Greg Sterlace Show, starring Greg Sterlace the poet laureate of the punk rock world.

October 22, 1999

Whatever happened to the pursuit of happiness? Everyone I ran into today was pissed off. Everyone wanted to jump into a hole and die. Is everyone on a diet? Is everyone abstaining from sex? Is your underwear too damned tight? Go out and eat some ice cream or engage in gratuitous sex with a stranger. I've had it with all you balls of hard packed negativity. Get a pet. Get drunk. Get laid. Just do whatever it takes to put a smile back on your face or I'll come after all of you with a baseball bat. This message has been brought to you by the Society to Promote Cheerfulness in America.
Live, if you call this living, from the Home of the Future, it's the Greg Sterlace Show, starring Greg Sterlace, the creator of Happy Pills… just pop two tablets and wash down with a fifth of Bourbon and GET HAPPY!

October 29, 1999

This is a public service announcement for women in their reproductive years. I recently realized that there are explicit instructions in the tampon box. I always thought that the usage was self-explanatory. However, for all of you out there who need to be told to "…always remove your used tampon before inserting a new one…" This is for YOU.
"Be sure to remove the last tampon you use at the end of your period." Hummm, I suppose it may eventually fall out but what the heck go the extra yard for personal hygiene and remove it instead.
Also, and I am not making any of this up, "Tampons are to be used during menstruation only… never between periods." Of what possible use could… I don't even want to go there. The thoughtful feminine hygiene company also reminds tampon users to "…remove the wrapper and cardboard or plastic applicator"; and let's not forget the helpful instructions on tampon removal… "Keeping your muscles relaxed pull the cord gently and steadily downward…" what could possibly be more intuitive than this?
Live, and I'm sure Greg is appalled by all of this, from the Home of the Future, it's the Greg Sterlace Show, starring Greg Sterlace, a man who likes to pretend that girls have no repulsive body functions.


December 3, 1999

Well golly! I am so excited I could touch myself… today is the 46th anniversary of one of America's own institutions. On this date in 1953, with a piddley investment of $7,600, Hugh Hefner that pajama wearing perpetually high on endorphins senior citizen, published the first Playboy magazine. Now that the horned up old bugger is almost 70 years old he has built an empire on the erections of Americans everywhere. And pleeease…, even I don't just read the interviews.
Congratulations Hugh old boy and aren't you glad you bought up all that stock in Viagra? You'll be plugging away well into the next millennium because there will never be a shortage of young beautiful woman anxious to make a few bucks off being young and beautiful. Who is exploiting who here Hugh? Give yourself a big hug and kiss from all of us at The Greg Sterlace Show but a blowjob is definitely out of the question.
Live, and without the benefit of Viagra, from the Home of the Future, it's the Greg Sterlace Show, staring Greg Sterlace, the centerfold for The Journal of Blind Hairy Palmed Men.

December 10, 1999

It gives me great pleasure to announce to you tonight that this is our 250 show. 250 recorded disasters, 250 odes to chaos, 250 symphonies of pandemonium. I personally have been present for approximately 100 of these catastrophes. That is 100 Fridays devoted to Mr. Sterlace 100 Fridays yielded to the god of Public Access. Richard has been here since day one, Gwen has been around even longer than I have and now we celebrate. Yeah, I know I don't sound very enthusiastic but life blows and my life is falling into the shit bin one Friday at a time. Thank God we have this as we careen into the holiday season, ass up and defenseless.
Live, with a hell of a delay, from the Home of the Future, it's the Greg Sterlace Show, staring my best friend and nemesis Greg Sterlace, king of the wild frontier.


December 17, 1999

Here comes Santa Claus, here comes Santa Claus, right down Santa Claus Way… Wait a minute… How come Santa Claus gets a street named after him? Some fat guy dresses all in red! He looks a little swishy with that white fur trim… if you know what I mean. He flies around in a sleigh pulled by reindeer, isn't that an animal rights issue? And what about that gift distribution thing? Don't you think that it's a bit strange that he is able to go all over the world without sleep in 24 hours? I think Santa Claus is a cokehead! Who said that Coke's the real thing? How do I know Coke's the real thing? Maybe Coke is not the real thing…
Live, in that part of your brain that resists pain, from the Home of the Future, it's the Greg Sterlace Show! Staring Greg Sterlace co-composer of Christmas Carols for Paranoids including hits like Santa Claus is Coming to Get Me!

December 24, 1999

This is the end beautiful friend.
This is the end my only friend, the end.
Of our elaborate plans, the end.
Of everything that stands, the end.
No safety or surprise, the end.
I'll never look into your eyes, again.

As we approach the end of time I'd like to thank you all for your continued support. Happy eternity and I hope to see you as we break on through to the other side... SING IT JIM!

Live, but not for much longer, from The Home of the Future, it's the Greg Sterlace Show! Staring Greg Sterlace, the first cousin twice removed of Father Time.

December 31, 1999

Shit. Now that we all survived and the Messiah did not come and pay off all our credit card debt, it's time to make our New Year's resolutions. Why don't you all simply do what I do; photo copy LAST year's resolutions. Why bother making up new ones when there are perfectly old ones that haven't even been used yet? Recycle last year's or better yet... photocopy yours and send them to a friend or your grandmother. Imagine granny's surprise when she sees that one of her resolutions for 2000 is to practice safe sex! And she could send you hers... but you may have trouble soaking your teeth every night if they're still attached to your head.
Live, even though it was a close one with all that millennium shit, from The Home of The Future, it's the Greg Sterlace Show. Staring Greg Sterlace, the man who has resolved never to resolve.