Date: Mon, 6 Apr 1998 23:06:53 -0500
Subject: Re:a story
... Jim was all ready for the big party. He had his secret Grand Funk Decoder ring, his custom roadkill button and his "Retina Scan" ID card. Only one thing remained to be done. Going to his titanium and gold lined vault he carefully removed from the hermetically sealed container the all knowing, all seeing "Funkengrueven T-Shirt."
Doning it like some ancient religious artifact, he admired himself in the bathroom mirror. "Gee, my pot belly seems to have gone away!" he noted with a grunt as he let out his breath. Glancing at his watch, he realized he was going to be late to the VEGAS ROADKILL PARTY.
He walked through the casino at Ceasars Palace (talk about roughing it) and exited the front of the building. He stood in line at the cabby stand as onlookers stared in awe at the treasured T-shirt. "If only they knew the trouble I had to go through to get this shirt," he thought (I seem to remember something about a $10 check, an envelope and a stamp). Giddy teenagers crowded forward and wanted his autograph. It was a good thing his security force consisting of Funkster Tom, Crash Test Chris, and Cyberking were there holding back the crowd. Jim gave the "eye" to a young 17 year old girl who had the features only Ted Bundy could love (the cad!). His trio of bouncers were able to hold the adoring crowd at bay. Finally, a taxi pulled up and the four of them piled into it.
On the way to the party, Jim thought about how unique the T-shirt was. The guys in the band were sure to notice him! When they got to the party Jim was completely surprised. Everyone was wearing the same T-shirt he had. What the F--K was going on here? Oh well, only the roadkill team had the shirts, I guess that's okay. He put aside his anger and had a good time at the party. But soon it was time to see the band.
All the Roadkillers had gotten seats together. The show was fantastic! Mark, Don and Mel were great. Howard Eddy was his usual self (in other words, HE DISSAPEARED!). After the show it was time to see the band.
Jim walked up to the security people and said "Hi, I'm Jim from Roadkill, as you can plainly see from our magnificent shirts. And we want to see the band!" Quick as a cat, the head of security grabbed Jim and put him in a Scorpion Death Lock! The other roadkillers quickly jumped to Jim's aid and a riot broke out. Steel chairs were flying and broken bottles crashing on peoples heads as all the roadkill shirts were getting torn to shreds! Jim finally escaped from the scorpion death lock and then pile drived the security guard. Funkster Tom counted the guard out (1, 2, 3! , Jim's the new intercontin ... whoops, wrong story!) ... Unseen by most everyone else, the Cyberking was over in the corner with a laptop computer. He punched a few keys and went "on-line." A few moments later, Sunny Quinn came out and escorted Cyberking to the back room.
"Hey," Jim said, "I've got a shirt!, don't I get to see the band, too?" ... "NO," said Sunny, "not when you behave in such a depraved and horrible ... hey, is that a GFR decoder ring?" "Yes, it sure is," said Jim. "Well, I guess you can come back with Cyberking."
And Jim lived happily ever after.
The moral to the story is ... forget the shirts ... GET THE DECODER RING ... it's a sure thing!
Jim's a good mans brother
Date: Sat, 2 May 1998 15:05:49 -0700
Subject: Re: Pooch
Actually, I have the "real" story ...
Back in 1974 I went to the Grand Funk concert at Illinois State University in Abnormal, Illinois. While waiting outside the arena, this hot looking dish (her name was "china") walked by and said, "Say, you look like the only "real" funk fan that I have seen, here, take this. It will absolutely guarantee you a great time at the show." She handed me this piece of paper with the words "Randge Unkfe Artype, admit one". Well, it was a good thing I was majoring in Pig Latin. During the show, I noticed that Farner actually was pointing right at me! I heard him say, "Jim, I'll see you at the party, DUDE!" Man, was I pumped!
After the show I headed for the back stage area. A couple of tough looking guards were standing by the door. I showed them my Pig Latin Pass. They examined the pass carefully. Being unsure of it's authenticity, they called their supervisor, Phooch, over. Phooch smiled at me and then looked at the pass. His smile melted away and he said, "Follow me." Being rather naive I actually followed him. Off to the side was an unmarked door leading to "who knows where." Phooch opened the door and BLAAMMO, there was the biggest party I had ever seen!
Phooch slapped me on the back and said, "Jim, we've all been waiting for you, where have you been?" Don can running up to me and said, "Jimbobainian!, Now the party can really start." Mark strolled over and put his arm around me and said, "Thanks for helping me with that riff in "Footstompin' Music," I never could have done it without you." I thought I had died and gone to heaven. But the best was yet to come. Mel looked me up and handed me something, "Hey Jim, here is that video tape I borrowed, you remember, Sparticus? Don't let anyone know I borrowed it, Okay?"
Now my journey to the dark side was complete.
Jim's a good mans brother