I'll Slap Your Lips Around on the Back of Your Head

Pokes Edgar in a ticklish spot.


I hate beer.

That's because you don't drink Lone Star.

I hate ALL beer.


Got scotch?

Single malt?


Or good vodka from the freezer?

No self respecting Scotsman would ever be without a decent bottle of single malt....how about a nice glass of the The Glenlivit...not the best, but I like it.

I've never had a Lonestar, was 13 the last time I was in Texas...just missed the legal drinking age by a few months.

I've got a bottle of vermouth, given to me for Christmas two years ago, by a friend from India.

Sits quietly with dlowan and 2packs and tosses Edgarb some of my f/g pillows I hauled with me on the move.

Well, hell, we'd all be wiser for only drinking vermouth, marsala, rosso something..

Can yuh crack me one, ed?

I'ma gonna knock these folks halfway to Tulsa if I don't get a few minutes peace and a cold one 'ud do me right 'bout now.

Sure, boom. They're iced and I got koozies, even.

Well, I'm not a drinker, but I'd sure like to hold a koozie if you don't mind.



yep, time to kick back with a nice koozie....aaahhh...

<sip>

ed, you as tense as an Arkasas virgin. You want I should invite Brother over here to pray?

No?

<heehee>

I dinnt think so.

<sip>

So whats stuck in your craw, son?

...looks like he bin rid hard 'n put away wet...

Pop, gulp <ahhhhh>.

It's Friday night. Time to let go and get mellow.

<settles in, grabs a beer and tunes in an old transistor radio, to a station that seems to come directly from 1969>

Ain't Nothing Like The Real Thing

Ain't nothing like the real thing, baby
Ain't nothing like the real thing
Ain't nothing like the real thing, baby
Ain't nothing like the real thing

(Tammi Terrell):
I got your picture hangin' on the wall
It can't see or come to me when I call your name
I realize it's just a picture in a frame

(Marvin Gaye):
I read your letters when you're not near
But they don't move me
And they don't groove me like when I hear
Your sweet voice whispering in my ear

(Both):
Ain't nothing like the real thing, baby
Ain't nothing like the real thing

(Tammi):
I play the game, a fantasy
I pretend but I'm not in reality
I need the shelter of your arms to comfort me

(Both):
No other sound is quite the same as your name
No touch can do half as much to make me feel better
So let's stay together

(Marvin):
I got some memories to look back on
And though they help me when you phone
I'm well aware nothing can take the place of being there

(Both):
So glad we got the real thing, baby
So glad we got the real thing
Ain't nothing like the real thing, baby
Ain't nothing like the real thing
Ain't nothing like the real thing, baby
Ain't nothing like the real thing

Is this a skivvy-free zone?

Now thass music.

Tammi Terrell, you know she's cousin to Milford.

Milford, over at the plant?

Yeah. That Milford.

She's cousin to him.





She sure can sing.

Damn straight.
I've been stuck at work while the BoSox have been pounding the Tribe.
Now I'm outta here. There's a cold Otter Creek Ale in the fridge (I asked
for Lone Star but they said some cranky Texan in a tin lizzy bought the
last one) just waitin on me.

The moon is round and full tonight
the dark is at it's lightest.
The boys are bent on gettin' tight
and the girls are in their tightest.

An' so and so's with such and such
and causing some surprise.
An' buddy over here doesn't like that much,
you can see it in his eyes.

Inside the music's playing
through the window shining bright.
There's nothing for the system
like a shot of Friday night.

The boys are on the corner,
they're lookin' tough and bored.
The great debate is raging
- Chevy or Ford.

And sometimes someone goes too far
and tempers will get frayed.
And honour has to be upheld
when comments are made.

And sometimes it gets ugly,
and sometimes it's all right.
And everythin' comes to a head
on a Friday night.

They oughtta bottle Friday night
It would make the perfect cure
and if they could can Monday morning
why, we'd have 'er made for sure.

A sudden roar of engine.
A large cloud of exhaust.
He lays a strip of rubber down
that shows how much he's lost.

He goes into a power turn
around the old stop sign
and the wheels squeal into a brake burn
that sends the gravel flyin'.
And the empties all go overboard
as he tears along the line.
He can come back for them later.
They help to pay the fine.

But the cops can't crisscross
every back road runnin' across the region
and the only law that gets respect
is hats off in the Legion.

The hall is full of revelers,
they come here to forget.
So far they're bein' successful
but the night ain't over yet.

And the times are gettin' tighter
so you may as well get tight.
And everyone agrees with that
on a Friday night.

They oughtta bottle Friday night
they'd have their fortunes made.
And if they could can Monday morning
we'd all be sittin' in the shade.

Well you can dream about a better tomorrow
You could win the lottery.
You could be the contestant
on a game show on T.V.

There's a hundred thousand different ways
to get out of the trap.
There's a giant contest goin' on
under every bottle cap.

And one of them's a winner.
And I wonder under which?
And the rules are on the wrapper
and the wrapper's in the ditch.

Yeah, I guess you could say they're a little be rough hewn.
And they may include a couple of scufflers.
And they're not too big on the niceties
like neck ties or mufflers.

But if you need some work done
They'll make you up a crew.
Not only will they build you a house
- They'll party in it too
And when the party's over
and they all fade out of sight
why you got yourself the memory of
another Friday night.

They oughtta bottle Friday night
it would outsell every brand.
And if they wanna do us all a favour
they could get Monday morning canned.