Am I Missing Something?

>> Tuesday, August 7, 2007

Hey Man,
I might be a few clowns short of a circus myself, what with living the rockstar lifestyle, but are we really going to leave saving the world to these two?

Thank you for these classics. Sorry Bono. I know you and I are cut from the same rocker stone, but I could not resist. I am still trying to figure out if those are green flame boogers shooting out of your nose .... sweet.


Dare to be different

>> Monday, August 6, 2007

Do you ever wish you were someone else? Ever wish you had a secret identity? As a rock star I obviously get no peace. I got to daydreaming ... what if I were invisible? What if I could shoot laser beams with my nostrils?... then it came to me ... I want to be this guy .....


It is Not Easy Being Cheesy

>> Sunday, August 5, 2007

Whew. It is not easy being a living legend like myself. Sure, you normal people probably think that my life is the shizzle to the nizzle if you know what I minizzle. You guys have NO IDEA how hard it is. I mean come on ... do you really think I have it easy?

Since the awards show, my life has been totally chaotical. My agent is calling me all hours, like 9 AM ... brutal. You want a real example of how tough it is to be me?

Just the other day I was in the middle of a mani-pedi when all of the sudden the hair on my neck stands up ... you know ... when you get that feeling that you are being watched/followed?

I totally expect to see some girdy groupies staring at me through the day spa window ... but instead it is this odd man with a mustache. I totally freak and have to run all the way out to my rental stretch H2, screaming like a school girl, running out the door with just my robe and a bunch of cotton between my toes ... you normal people try that. What possesses pasty white men in Hawaiian shirts to grow mustaches anyways?

Back to the story ... I dive/jump into the strech, yell at Hans to step on it, and make it back home just as my chef is making dinner. Seriously, life is tough. No sooner than I get into the foyer and the crazy mustachioed bandit is knocking on my door, demanding I meet with him. At this point I am seriously spooked. I am sucking my thumb, rocking in a corner ... still in my robe ... the tears are flowing, I think my life is about to end... then my cat like reflexes and ninja like skillz set in. I grab an umbrella next to the door, step outside and beat that crazy man senseless.

At the police station, I finally find out apparently it was all a misunderstanding, and really the only thing that really was happening was Weird Al just wanted to spoof my cult fav "I'm Just a Back Yard Guy with No 4 Wheel Drive". What does that guy have a mustache for anyways .... does he not know how creepy he looks??!?

So just as I think this couldn't get any worse comes news from my president/manager that within the hour, Smoking Gun plans on having my mug shot as well as a picture of me running down the road crying in nothing but a bath robe and a tan. Perfect.

You can all get back to your easy lives now. Don't worry ... please go to sleep. Don't fear for tomorrow. Say a prayer for me. I will be OK, I am strong, I will pull through ... but please ... do NOT tell me how easy this life is. We all have burdens.


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