There's some 2006 on your chin, mang.

Acta est fabula, plaudite! It's finally over in five and a half hours, and not a damned thing will change. What have you resolved?

In all a wholesome week: what between gorging ourselves sick at the Selby Ave Pizza Luce soft opening; that darned Jacobins show (fine evidence) that was followed-up with a fine rendition of Living Colour's "Cult of Personality" by This Brenn; Sax stewing up some above-par enchiladas accompanied by Luke, Rex, and Justine; the same foursome (less one (1) Justine) all winning at Mystic Lake casino last night; and a fine cross-haired evening a-foot with Luke, Daddy Warbucks, n' Dan to shut down this ought-six anno domini all proper-like.

This I like; an ex-cop seeking redemption and absolution by offering advice to rather innocent, non-violent chemical users in evading the Black Boot of The Man. You have my pardon, fellow. If only more authoritarians would seek the light of liberty and repent.

An abrupt close with a gem that Rex's pal Max found: "Government is the Entertainment Division of the military-industrial complex." - Frank Zappa

Necessitas non habet legem
-Brenn

Damngood show Wednesday night. Damngood.

Cookie Recognition 201 with Rev. Lee R. Brenn

My pal Sara exported me some delectable home-made South Dakota cookies this week, and I felt I should further expand my readers' cookie identification skills. Perpend! Now gather, and surmise:














1. High-Density Coconut Bunker Chews (coconut is Luke's kryptonite; with these I am IMMORTAL!)
2. Frosted Sugar Cookies v2.0 (this variety comes in more enjoyable shapes, such as Michelin Man.)
3. Chocolate Cherry Cubes of Decimation
4. Chocolate-Covered Pretzels (Edina Ratio)

The Jacobins

December, 27 2006 at Club Underground
355 Monroe St. NE
Minneapolis, Minnesota 55418
~9:00, Cost : $3

Cookie Recognition Seminar with Luke

Luke was noble enough to bestow some priceless cookie identification knowledge on me this weekend.















1. Frosted Sugar Cookie - various Christmas shapes
2. Chocolate Peanut Butter Bar
3. Butterscotch Bar - popular variant of the Chocolate Peanut Butter Bar
4. Peanut Butter Blossom
5. Russian Tea Cake
(not shown: Spritzer)

line of the month

"Nothing changes until you SEND ME MONEY!"
-Luke, in mock of Mike Ruppert

St Paul local authorities ready another ballista barrage during a 12-hour standoff with libertarian yokels.

During a standoff in Brooklyn Park yestereve Luke tried to cajole me into trekking way out there with him to witness. Tired and blotto, I declined, but additional conversation:

Hades Raze: [[Police are facing a dangerous hostage situation in Brooklyn Park. The standoff is on the 1700 block of 89th Avenue. Six suspects are believed to be inside the home -- 5 men and one woman. Police say they have a sawed-off shotgun and a couple handguns. A SWAT team and negotiators are on the scene. Two people have come out of the house -- one victim and one person of interest. One man was held at gunpoint during the standoff, which started around 6:00 p.m. Tuesday.]]
Hades Raze: We're better armed than these people.
Napoleon: yea
Napoleon: we should start a stand off
Hades Raze: Naw...maybe this weekend.
Napoleon: at least i would miss work tomorrow
Napoleon: or the next 30 years
Hades Raze: But the lunch buffet is tomorrow.
Napoleon: oh yea
Napoleon: nevermind

The Battle of Hill Plaza

September 3rd, 2008, 04:00, Cathedral Hill, St Paul, MN

The lava lamps struggled to keep the living room in an orange glow, fighting the leaks of spotlight shining through cracks in the boarded-up windows; deep into the ninth hour of a high-tension standoff, Duke, Lex, and Rich squatted and curled at varying points aside the wide bay window.

Rich heard a rumble, but familiar; David Thune passing by in his M1 Abrams, possibly joining the fray. It was a welcome paradigm to the Bob Seger the aggressors had been blasting at painful decibels earlier; psychological warfare, though Lex seemed to be okay with it.

A loudspeakered-voice boomed from Selby Ave below, "You boys had better stay in there! We've got trebuchet and ballista an' all out here and we ain't fraid to use them! Can't have you enemies of the State runnin' 'round St Paul with all the Masters meeting down the Hill." Damned Marshals.

Lex, clutching what protection he had in one hand, vending machine keys cast in Jew gold in the other, rose in front of the boarded window and shouted through a crack, "We're NEVER coming out, pigs!" ducking back immediately, giggling.

Confused, the Marshall barked an order; he didn't like being confused. An honest-to-God ballista bolt came crashing through the center of the boarded bay window.

Duke, having had it; shivering with rage and clutching a Yuletide tin, shot up and stood defiantly in the new opening, raising a clutched fist in the air, "You f&%$ng lobster c&nts! We've got hundreds of my mom's Russian Tea Cakes from last Christmas, and I can throw a piece of popcorn through a tank! You'll never make us, who don't want to leave, not leave...alive...?"

10,000 cops. 10,000. One for every man, dog and squirrel.

-Brenn

I'm in the scuppers with a hose-pipe.

Another week dirt-kicked and in lieu of our attendance forfeit of tonight's smokers' meetup, this Friday evening is likely to bear more gray carousal riddled with anti-cop stories and impending collapse (right after a nice conversation surrounding mortgages, real estate, and snack vending).

I've still one (1) extra trackside ticket for tomorrow's Rollergirls bout, if anybody has the itch. Last Saturday our rollers embarrassed Lincoln's No Coast Derby Girls at the rate of 170-22 on their own turf; it is bound to be brutal. Post-wards, poker, too.

Anyways, don't let it fool you.

Materiam superabat opus.

-Brenn

Classic rock snuck up on us.

People who drink need to eat; I warn you all against Denny's, mostly for the sake of your BM:

Luke and I were rolling down The Hill to Mickey's Diner for a nibble [read: maw-stuffing] when we realized our failure to recall the letting-out of the Minnesota Wild game. After swerving through a posse of armed traffic-directors, we were on East 7th St and just kept going. In the midst of the east-side underbelly of St Paul it was post-facto when I noted that we had been driving through the dregs listening to The Eagles [retch]. We proceeded meander until we were in the Maplewood Denny's parking lot, bleak-eyed.

Much shame and indignity on us. We are going to attempt repent with a visit to a bar we passed on the way: The Noose.

The itty-bitty spark gap between the blue (and sometimes brown) JBT's and the President's International Warrior Legion seems to be in appearance only; this gets worse by the day. I ask you to consider this brilliant dissertation from LRC's A.D. Lelong in reference.


"I said SHOTGUN! Shoot 'im 'for he runs now!" - Autry DeWalt

-Brenn

Tersm Ratings

If this doesn't get you angry, I don't know what will.

http://www.startribune.com/484/story/847136.html

I am ten minutes into December of 2006, and it can wash my laundry in its mouth. Fabric softener, please.