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Welcome back, Drew! (quite long)
In a message dated 98-12-27 09:18:00 EST, you write:
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dug: you da man! you da man!
ric: isn't "the man" the guy who's always bringing everyone down?
dug: nope! 'cause YOU da man!! Email: vogelap at email_uc.edu
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>>
Drew, I too missed this sig of yours! Welcome back.
And for those who never read it, I offer this post from my best-of-the-list
archive...
a post from Drew so classic, I still have it saved:
"What really happened at the Monk show"
On Tue, 18 Mar 1997 Ebb1122 at aol_com wrote:
> Ok... being that I am away at college and NOT where I'd love to be (in my
> hometown of Cincy) for every concert and get together... I'm REALLY
confused!
> Can someone please (in modern English and full sentences) explain what
> happened at the Monk concert?!?!?
>
Hej Elissa... Let's see... The Monk concert. Yes... Shelly, myself,
Allison (lurker on the list, I think ;-) Hi Allison!), and one of
Allison's friends met for dinner at Daniel's Pub. Loverly time had by all.
Just about 8:00, I was fixing to stroll up to Sudsy's when in walks Dug
of Snoop Duggy Dug fame. Chatted with him for a moment, off I went while
they all sat a shot the sh*t. I wandered up to Sudsy's where I met Ric and
chatted with him for a few minutes (I'd offered to work the door for him).
Got settled in. Drank some beer, chatted with Kerry (the sound guy, and a
neighbor) when he arrived.
Sooner or later, everyone started arriving. Mike Helm opened and did a
great job, just him and his guitar (and a wonderful song called "This is
my Pop Song" (which, sadly, does not appear on the CD I bought)). After a
proper interval, Monk takes the stage and blows us all away.
=-=-=-=-=
Of course, there is more... The cast of characters (names changed to
protect the guilty):
* A suave, smooth, handsome hunk of man. We'll call him DREW.
* A saucy, crazy, dancing woman. We'll call her SHELLY
* A skinny, gangly, under-age, who doesn't know 'when to say when' who
loves Monk. Let's call him DUG.
* A quiet, soft-spoken, music-loving guy with a bullet through his ear (no
lie). Let's call him SCOTT.
* The Tour Merchandise Guy, who needs no introduction. Let's call him
TODD.
* The soundman and my neighbor. We'll name him KERRY.
Finally,
* A drunk, drunk, drunk, little hotten-tot who was celebrating her 23d
birthday. Let's call her Lee Ann. Did I mention that she was drunk?
Okay... Cast is set. Here's the starting positions. In the back row sits,
in order from left to right, Lee Ann (she's not too drunk yet, and looking
quite fetching in her "braces and boots", as E. John might say), Scott,
Drew, Dug. In front of that crew sits Kerry and Todd.
Drew spies Lee Ann, and continually and unashamedly crowds Scott's
personal space trying to hit on her, which, I think we'll all agree, he
did QUITE well, being the suave, smooth operator that he is.
Scott, being stuck between Drew and Lee Ann sits observing The Skill...
The Art... That is the work of Mack-Daddy Drew. Well, before long, Scott
is murmuring things in my (err... DREW's) ear about how he's blowing it.
Great support from Scott. Not to miss out on a great chance to rib me
(err.. DREW), Todd and Kerry chime in with "You're going down in the third
(round)", and "Give him the standing eight -- he's a nice guy". Etc.
(Admittedly, to these untrained novices, it may have appeared that Drew
was 'going down in flames', when in fact Drew had skillfully assessed the
situation with our little drunk gal, and was in the process of 'letting
her down gently'; disengaging the little filly who had not passed Drew's
muster.)
Well, Drew, being the worldly, sophisticated chap that he is, recognizes
that Lee Ann, while filling out her sweater quite nicely, lacks, shall we
say, some of the finer qualities that are desirable in a companion, so
Drew peels off the chase and continues on his merry way.
Meanwhile, Dug has been consuming massive amounts of cheap domestic beep.
Now, drinking a lot of beer isn't necessarily a bad thing, mind you, but
when you're a little slip of a kid like Dug is, a little beer goes a long
way. If I had to guess, I'd imagine that Dug is probably 45 pounds
wringing wet... Beer is bound to pickle his little addled brain, already
taxed by a heavy college course-load.
Well, you can see that we've got on our hands a drunk hotten-tot (Lee
Ann), and a drunk, horney (so far, could be nearly ANYONE in the bar!),
underage (still plenty of folks fit that category), college student
(ditto), named Dug (aha!). They were destined to meet. And meet they
did...
Drew moved up toward the front of the audience area to stand with Shelly,
who was dancing her feet off, all the while sucking down incredible
amounts of some foul-smelling vile brown liquor from giant plastic cups.
Behind me (err... Drew) stands Dug, and Lee Ann flits about like crazy,
eventually settling down somewhere behind Drew and Dug. Scott remarked
that he thought that every man in the bar had touched Lee Ann's spankybutt
that night. Well, when Dug's turn with her spankybutt rolled around, he
was MACK DADDY (all caps), and put the moves on her _big time_, despite
Drew's repeated whispered warnings to Lee Ann that Dug was only 14 years
old (slight exaggeration on Drew's part. Very slight).
Apparently, Lee Ann got confused with Drew's charming good looks and Dug's
feeble attempts to seduce her, and in aiming a kiss at Drew (obviously),
failed completely to hit that mark, landing the alcohol-sodden lips
instead on young Dug, who happened to be standing in close proximity.
Once Drew picked his jaw up off the floor (shocked that a youth happened
to intercept a kiss that was CLEARLY aimed at Drew), I (err...) watched as
Lee Ann drifted... no, toddled... no, STAGGERED to the back of the place
and proceeded to empty her stomach of all its contents. An amazing amount
of contents it was too. All within a few short minutes of being lip-locked
by Dear-Young-Duggie. If one puts two and two together, the obvious
conclusion is that the effect of Dug's youthful attempts with Lee Ann were
too much for her delicate constitution, and her body reacted by trying to
wash any trace of Duggy-ness from her body, using stomach acid.
Well, Drew stood by nobly (he knows no other way) and listened to the
cruel taunts and jeers of Shelly, and a few other notables, suggesting, no
accusing him of going down in flames, which wasn't the case at all...
Hopefully, this tale will help you understand the goings-on of that
fateful night. Remember that all the names have been changed to protect
the guilty...
This story brought to you by SHADOWY MEN ON A SHADOWY PLANET and the
letter "M".
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