please do not send flowers

Unbeknownst to may of you, The Oz suffered a terrible accident this weekend....he apparently got near a keyboard to his computer so he could write another fantastically witty and riveting blog and guess what happened??? The Oz is allergic to blogging!!! I mean, that could explain why he blogs about as often as the Texans actually win a football game, which is sad to say, not terribly often. Maybe he knew subconsciously that his head would swell to the size of a basketball and he would break out in a chicken pox-like rash.

The Oz after his allergic reaction to his computer!

Poor The Oz. He loved blogging so...I guess he'll have to enroll himself in CRAB Anonymous (Can't 'Rite Another Blog), the poor bastard. Please do not send flowers, as although Oz is girl-pretty and loves daffodils, he's also allergic....please send cash donations to aid in his speedy recovery to your truly, and I will make sure cough cough that it gets to him to aid in his return to society. It better be speedy, as we're playing Friday night in Denton at the Garage!

shaked and baked

As in "shaked" = Chris and I not being very sober most of the weekend, and "baked" = waaay too much sun, although neither of us got too crispy and burned on our annual Memorial Day trip to Padre. Much fun was had, although I discovered that drinking 4 Bahama Mamas (yes I know a chick drink but man this little bar on the beach serves 'em up STRONG) and a bunch of beer in the space of 4 hours right when you get there is not very conducive to late night partying, wow I was hurting.

If you read Baldilock's blog, he boasts of being undefeated in Bocce Ball for ONE day...yes, he and Bob-o, our good buddy, beat me and my partner Ken on a last-ditch throw, but I will point out that Bob-o carried Chris on his back for the final rounds and they beat us at the last second on the strength of Bob-Os skill, haha. And make sure to ask Christopher who spanked his butt the day before in Bocce. That's right, yours truly. So it is all even until next year, 1 game apiece.

But the weekend was good, a nice chance to get away and have no real worries other than "where's my sunscreen?" and "why is my beer empty?" for most of the weekend. But I think we're all ready to get back to being on the road, so hey hey I think we're out in Denton at The Garage this weekend (Tyler is next weekend, Chris, doh) so come out and bask in the presence of Oz and Colin and the Bocce Ball Studs, Chris and I.

p.s. don't forget to send Colin some love, apparently he lost by ONE VOTE to Chris, Oz, and I in the 'who's the studliest monkey?' contest. I hear he could use some love (and light oil massages) from the ladies to help soothe and dull his grief =)

totally irresponsible time

Well, kids, it is time for the annual Padre Run...if you don't know what this is, it's where Chris and I and his wife Amy and a slew of other fine people head to South Padre on Memorial Day Weekend and embark on a long, winding, and entirely non-sober stress-reliever weekend. We leave tomorrow, so yes, we have packed the sunscreen, the volleyball, the suntan lotion, and our inflatable horsie swimmy toy and are heading out in the early morning. Chris' wife Amy is coming too, one of her purposes, I think, is to make sure Chris and I don't roul afoul of the wonderful and pleasant South Padre law enforcement folks...she was successful last year (barely....thanks Chris) and hopefully she will keep is in line again, haha.

Here are a few pics of Padre Run 2005....I will say that we always drank responsibly, never drove anywhere whatsoever, and never did anything silly. Ahem on the last one.

So if you notice a lack of blog entries for a few days, well, you'll know where we'll be...either in jail, or acting like...well, like drunken monkeys.

if you looked really closely....

....you would have seen yours truly come off the bench last night in the Mavs' win against the Scrubs, I mean Spurs, haha. I may only appear to be 6 feet tall, but it's just a trick of lighting and I slouch when I play, I'm really 6'11". I am a baller from way back, I used to school Shaq when we were kids, but then he started stealing my lunch money for extra portions of meat loaf and taters at the school cafeteria and he bulked up, the little dirtbag. I'll see him in the Finals and we'll talk who's the boss.

But anyway, right when it looked like the Spurs were gonna pull it out, Avery said, "Keith, get in there! Make Papa proud, or I will force you to listen to Air Supply for three days straight!" and as that made my stomach churn, I went out and threw down the game-winning monster dunk...the rest is history.

we're on a roll

As you all may know, the monkeyboys have been on a roll lately, and no I don't mean like a biscuit or croissant, although I know some of you ladies may like the mental image of the four of us buttered lightly and sandwiched between two flaky layers of buttermilk biscuits, haha. Where did that come from? Anyway we played at Bum's down in Temple last night...which on the surface you might say a) Temple? Where the hell is that? Isn't that some little town near Austin? and b) the place is called Bum's? Nice.

But it is one of our favorite places to play. There is almost always a terrific crowd, no matter how big or small, but last night was a great one! And then there's the fact that the management and waitstaff all think we are sorta swell (or at least they pretend to), and that coupled with a group of friends that always comes out and likes to try and make us sloppy drunk, we got a lot of free booze. I mean like a lot. We had already done a round of JaegerBombs and Christian and I had already put away a couple of beers, when one of the waitresses comes up and plops 4 more Bombs down and like 6 more beers not 5 minutes later....you see how difficult it is leading a rock-n-roll lifetsyle???? Of course, being the kind and courteous rockers we are, we oblige and make those tasty offerings disappear. I think I had like 7 empty beer bottles on my amp and two full ones I hadn't even gotten to when the evil Will (manager at Bum's) came and pried them out of my hands in case the cops showed up, there's this annoying Texas law about not drinking in a bar after 2am, damn you, you politicians...this is the 21st century!!! So to all the fans and employees of Temple and Bum's, we so salute you.

And so our streak of killer shows goes on...so to anyone who made it out last....you rule. And so we are still on a roll, although I much prefer biscuits myself. But "we're on a biscuit" just doesn't have the same ring, you know?

this just in!

Due to some internal bickering (I told Oz that I would not, repeat NOT rub flavored baby oil his wounded hip flexor) and arguing (Colin and Chris could not agree on who the most badass Mighty Morphin' Power Ranger was....I hear Chris voted for pink though) we have decided to shake things up a bit. So starting next weekend, we have decided that since we are immensely talented musicians, that we would play a series of shows with each of us playing a different instrument....

First there is Chris....he has long had string-is envy with my bass, and I will just keep it PG-rated at that. Something about more wood...I just don't know what he meant. But here he is, letting his inner Geddy Lee out! I think Chris looks pimptastic in black. Kind of like a sinister bald Gene Simmons, huh? Chris is ready to rock 'n roll all night! Especially if he and Colin get to spoon in the van on the way home from gigs.





And then we have The Oz....long has he watched Colin pound and bash on his drumset, not to mention his admiration for Colin's clever and thoughtful dynamics and double-bass pedal work...so now he gets to pound the skins! Go Oz go!!!!! Not to mention he will have a full unobstructed view of all of our butts as we play, and I think he is stoked about this, but shh, keep that quiet.




For a long time, Big Colin has pined for the chance to let his soft inner delicate side show and croon some sweet, sweet love songs to all of the ladies in the limelight instead of being trapped behind his drums....it looks like his dream has come true. Look at how sensitive and emo he looks here, aww ladies I know you want some of that!



And last but not least, yours truly, your friendly neighborhood bass player. Seeing as the bass is the true foundation of any band (as any bassist will tell you, and we are right at least 4 out of 100 times) I have no real desire to play guitar or sing, it goes against my non-primadonna nature. But man do I like pimp in all white. So pimp that I appear to be rubbing my own ass because I can't keep my hands off myself!!!


So there you have it. Come check us out work some magic and our next few shows, you will be in for an unforgettable show!

p.s. I would like to point out that the word 'unforgettable' does not necessarily mean "good", hahahaha, but I digress.

crunchy cheesy chili-y sloppy goodness

As previously discussed, the secret is out that I have this thing for Chili Cheese Fritos. It's almost a borderline addiction, like cops with donuts, government employees with coffee, and drummers with midget porn...I mean, we're talking serious stuff here, like maybe I need an intervention or something.

So off to Wichita Falls we go this weekend to the Iron Horse Pub, and you just knew that when we stopped for gas before we left Dallas that I was going to magically be drawn to that magic 99-cent bag of chili crunchy tastiness....yep, the Chili Cheese Frito "Grab Bag". I mean, I couldn't help myself...due to my Frito-induced berserker madness, I failed to notice an important fact that I'll discuss in a sec.

Man, I tore into those chips like a guest on Jerry Springer on her baby's daddy, I mean I was all over 'em. I think I ate half the bag in 12.7 seconds. And then the best part, getting to lick the chili cheese crumbs that stick to your fingers off when you're done.

Then I look at the bag, admiring it's golden yellow and deep brown chili-ish hues...and I notice the freshness date. No way. I show it to The Oz, who was giving himself a pedicure at the time and ask him if this says what I think it says.

Keith (K): Hey Oz...what does this say for a freshness date?
The Oz (TO): Umm, looks like....July '04. Wow.
K: Are you sure it's not July 4th?
TO: Uh, I don't think so.
K: &%$!@#.

So hopefully I don't get the bird flu or some other weird disease from eating 2-year-old Chili Cheese Fritos. It would be tragic to be done in by the thing I so love. Wish me and my health luck this week!

p.s. Dear Racetrac gas station on Hebron Parkway...I am so gonna sue you.

the band that time forgot

A couple of weeks ago I was looking through my pictures I have on my computer, some of them are REALLY OLD pictures I had scanned in once upon a time....the boys and I were talking not too long ago about old bands we had been in, and the old hair-bands or metal bands that were big when we were learning how to play, like Stryper, Cinderella, Iron Maiden, old Metallica, Judas Priest...so when I found this picture of my very first band I ever played in back in 1989 and 1990, it brought back fond memories of....OVERBOARD. Yes, I was in a cheezy band called Overboard. We even had our badass logo painted on a bedsheet, complete with an anchor (which has nothing really to do with being Overboard, but it is boat-related, and I think that was close enough for us).



Wow, check out my hair! My glorious free-flowing feathered mullet...at least I didn't have more chest hair than a small Grizzly Bear like Chris did...but check out the cool pointy-headstock bass, the chicken legs, and yes of course the mandatory Ozzy t-shirt! How sweet is that shirt???? Not to mention I think I was 6 inches taller than anyone else in the band. We played such glorious tunes as "Into the Fire" and "Breaking the Chains" from Dokken, "You Got Another Thing Comin'" and "Livin After Midnight" from Priest and I think we did some Barry Manilow covers too. All right ladies I know you are now drooling at the mere thought of getting near me and being so close to my former mulleted glory, but please restrain yourself, there is only so much of me to go around.

Well, crap.

Normally I don't do this, I keep my myspace blogs and the ones here on monkeyshyne.com completely separate, but this one warrants being posted in two places, to me...not saying what I have to say is that important in the grand scheme of life, but to me it is, at least on this one....

(from my myspace blog)
"I was catching up with my buddy Ray yesterday on msn messenger, we're Air Force buddies from way back....he came in the service right after me, and was in the class a couple behind mine in Airstrikes-R-Us School we both went to to initially learn the basics of our job...we didn't really know each other back then, but later when we got to be friends we also realized that we had also been at the infamous-in-USAF circles OL-H almost at the same time, the indoctrination course for becoming a Pararescueman....neither of us made it for various reasons all the way through pipeline of schools you have to go to (Indoc at OL-H is one mother of a course, trust me), but we had some shared memories of it.

So he asks me if I remembered an instructor there named Maltz...the name rung a bell but as it's been 13 years, I couldn't remember exactly who he was, until Ray said "he was the mean sonofabitch who always brought his Rottweiler into the class or dorms and scared the shit out of everyone". Oh yeah, now I remember. I hated the guy. He flipped me and my mattress out of the top bunk at 4am in the morning once, onto the floor (ouch) and all I remember was going 'what the f$x' and remember the dog staring at me like it wanted to have me for a 4am light snack.

We both agreed that we hated the dude.

But then Ray tells me that he bought the farm in Afghanistan in 2003 in a helicopter crash. What a crappy way to go. 8,000 miles from your friends and family and loved ones, and you get done in because the helicopter you're on breaks in flight or you get shot down by some bearded dude who doesn't speak English and hates you becase, well, who knows why, I'm leaving politics way out of this.

A little about MSgt Mike Maltz

We then kind of solemnly agreed that hating him was kind of pointless, and had been a waste of time, in the end. Everybody's got their place in the cosmos, and hate is a waste of time. And everyone is someone's husband or wife, son or daughter, brother or sister, and regardless of whether you agree with the circumstances that people are dying in, in the various spots of the world we're involved in, that should stop and make you think.

Another mutual friend of Ray and I's, Dennis Hay, died last year in Iraq. Ray knew him a lot better than I did. He had cross-trained out of our career field into Pararescue, and then had switched to the Army to be a chopper pilot...he was shot down and killed about 7 months ago.

So whether you agree with what's going on over in the Middle East or not, take a second or two to think about someone you may know who might be over there, and wish them a safe return.

Marauder 04, out."

Just some food for thought.

Anyway, I am off to Fort Sill, OK today here in a couple of hours for a couple of days of blowing stuff up on the bombing range, yeehaw! I will then be stopping in Dallas on my way back, so to the great fans of WF, we'll be seeing ya on Friday night at the Iron Horse, word! And then back to Dallas to play at Click's on Saturday night.

Computers, tacos, and serendipity

Okay, first off I just took a good look at the picture I randomly posted in my last blog...if you look really close at the sign the guy is holding it says 'pay tomato pickers'. I didn't realize that picketing Taco Bell would really be an effective forum to raise public awareness about the financial compensation of aforementioned tomato pickers, I mean c'mon when you and I go to Taco Bell we want some tacos or chalupas or enchiritos RIGHT NOW and I will mow over any fool with a sign that stands between me and sloppy taco goodness.

Anyway I digress (again...I seem to be Captain Random lately). Speaking of random, I have 83 days left in the Air Force! I'm stoked. And 39 of that is vacation time. And that's including weekends. SO I probably have about 28ish actual days of work left, although I will get paid for 83. Ahh, if it only worked like that all of the time.

Crap, I randomed off again. My computer, which I have had since early '04 and has been a trusty steed, is being kind of fruity. Besides the fact that I could read a fair-sized book in the time it takes to boot up, it's just doing odd stuff. Like my printer mysteriously not printing random documents, or it freezing on simple applications, or it just refusing to run iTunes right. I've alternated between talking to it in a calm, soothing, encouraging voice ("c'mon baby, you know that laptop ain't got nothin' on you and your motherboard") to vaguely threatening it ("I'm gonna reprogram you with a large hatchet"). So the evil thought that I may have to replace the CPU someday crept into my mind. Which I hate, because it's a pain in the ass to transfer over all of your files and songs and stuff, not to mention that when you buy a computer for say $1200, approximately 6.3 days later the same computer is on sale for $700. Then when you go to the store to say 'hey I want my $500 because you just put this on sale" they pull out same paper with a clause on it that says "Dear computer buyer, we have you bent over the barrel, so get used to it ahhahaha, I mean, we sincerely regret being unable to pricematch or return any money due to the competitive nature of the computer industry".

And on a final note....a minor miracle occurred this week, for lack of a better term. A terrific person and friend I had lost touch with got a hold of me out of the blue, one I hadn't talked to in years (unfortunately). So here's to you, you know who you are. Thanks for finding me.

the wonderful world of crappy fast food

So I found myself cruising around today at lunch trying to figure where I wanted to eat...I didn't have much time today so I had to settle for some junk fast food. So I start running through the list of places around the base I work at (nearly every fast food chain known to man has a place near Fort Hood, it seems) and I realized that I really like some of the stuff. I mean, it's totally rotten for you, but what the hell....so here are some of my favorites at my favorite places:

- Wendys....double cheeseburger meal, no lettuce tomato or onions (I always order that way, dont like lettuce or tomato and I'm allergic to onions, so we'll just assume everything is ordered that way for brevity's sake), and if I'm really hungry, an order of nuggets too with honey mustard sauce.
- Whataburger: Same thing, or their 3-piece chicken tender meal with white gravy and toast, I ate this Saturday.
- Toxic Hell, I mean Taco Bell - usually a #8 combo (three soft tacos) with a spicy chicken burrito, no pico sauce
- Chick-fil-A - good ole chicken sammich with cheese, fries, and an iced tea
- Arby's - Big Montana with curly fries, I opted for this today
- Jack-in-the-Crack - either a sourdough burger combo with curly fries, or a load of tacos no lettuce
- Subway - 12-inch tuna on wheat with pickles, spicy mustard, salt and pepper with some form of chips

of course there's more, but those are the main ones....I figured my cholesterol would be high after thinking about how much bad stuff I eat, but it's actually right smack in the normal category, so I will continue to eat away until that changes.

So what are some of your gotta-have fast food meals? I'm dying to know. No, really I am!