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THE RUNNING JOKE: October, 2000 - June, 2002
My vacation has begun. Watch the progress here. This is more of an EVENT than a CURIOUSOTY! 11.25.03 Having achieved temporary bachelor status, I am left without many of the husbandly, fatherly duties that have routinely been eating away at the precious time I had formerly earmarket for drinking, indoor golf, online activity (both illicit and otherwise), etc. So tonight, I have time to watch one of the as-yet-unseen DVDs purchased within the past several months. My choices are Narc, Identity, The Ring, The Italian Job. I was leaning heavily toward Identity when I got home but decided to consult the IMDB. I have learned a thing or two from IMDB over the years, and I now impart some of this wisdom to you. First, never trust IMDB's ratings of comedies. The arty, dark, and dramatized comedies are always rated well, whereas the really funny shit never gets props. Second, a rating above 7 (for a drama) is generally a good indicator that the film is actually quite good. Given that none of tonight's 4 options was a comedy, I place my faith in the ratings, which came out like this:
So I am going against my original instincts, and will tonight watch The Ring, a movie which I didn't really even want to buy (something inexplicable made me do it). Whatever. Let's hope for the best. Next time: Here comes basketball, and a busted Thanksgiving. P.S. Just finished watching The Ring. It started off like a crusty turd, and I nearly stopped watching after about 45 minutes. Amazingly enough, though, it turned out to be pretty dang-gone good. The Ring would be good in a double feature with Final Destination -- a movie that started off pretty dang-gone good, and finished up like a crusty turd. If you do embark on a Ring / Final Destination double feature, make sure you start with Final Destination. 11.03.03 Online and aimless this afternoon, I uncovered (or, rather, stumbled upon) a little something known as GenSelect. Before you actually click the link, be advised: this is not the kind of thing you want to enter into lightly; press on only if you wouldn't mind observing something that could easily be found in a low-rent, retarded version of Gattaca, which (by the way) is a fine film, showcasing the talents of the talented Ms. Uma Thurman, who (as I have heard) is not a fan of HDTV. What was I saying? Oh yes! The GenSelect douches are scientifically formulated specifically for each gender selection. The compounds utilized are of the utmost quality and extremely safe to use.Each $200 "kit" has 1 month's worth of "supplies". So if you somehow fail to conceive before 30 days are up, you will need another kit. However, if you buy 2 months worth at the outset, you will only cost $330 for both. And, finally, what the fuck? 10.23.03 Hello ye hearty bastions of Cocksocketonium! Greetings insatiable consumers of the Organica! Your Captain is alive and well, if not entirely energized with the zest of 1,000 showers! I did shower today, but there was no Zest used. Nor was any Zest harmed in the writing of these letters. As I sit here tonight, quietly sipping on this terribly dry Martini, I find myself reminded of things and personas recently passed. The abrupt demise of "King Tufu" brand Tufu was troubling and unexpected. The King was lost, then re-emerged briefly, then was (I suppose) lost again forever in one of the most bizarre accidents of Cocksocket's young existence. Perhaps more troubling and unexpected was the quick succession of events that comprised 1) the disappearance of alecosystems.com, 2) the total merger of 2 inextricably linked, yet perversely different personas - Matt and Loretta, 3) The appearance and presence of the twin papa websites, 4) the almost immediate disappearance of said websites -- netpapa.com and pcpapa.com, 5) The lifestage movements and acquisitions of Matt. Further, we are heading well into our 4th month of an aging home page. Clearly this is all part of the underpinning "ebb and flow" that is Organica, yet this Sabbatical seems strangely subversive. But here's the good part -- the testament to the power of the Organica -- while editorial input and (really) all manner of creative interest in the site had dwindled to (basically) nothing, the traffic was not terribly reduced. Now, does this signify the mysterious draw of Cocksocketonian archives, or merely how pointless, fruitless, and inexcusably dull the Cocksocket has been all along? Not sure, really. But here are some findings from the month of October (so far):
And here's another fact for you: Since inception 3 short years ago, Cocksocket has produced a running commentary totaling more than 33,000 words. According to this website, the commentary is a serious novella, not too far removed from novel status. I am currently in the midst of a PC upgrade, so many things are beyond my control for the immediate future. I assume that your delicate constitutions can manage the situation. In the mean time between now and the next now, I recommend some intense visitation of Cocksocket's Musical Archives. Especially if (as recent reports indicate) you have a broadband connection. Peace, Gee 07.06.03 The future of the socket It's been something in the neighborhood of 3 years since we began cocksocketonificating, and things have grown (organically) quite stale. But this hasn't been a relationship of pure staleness, has it? We have had highs and lows, laughs and pieces of eight. We have almost sexually bonded. However, maintaining the usual run of commentary has proven to be difficult since Baby Beefcakes was born. I'm looking at the site now, and I can see some totally underutilized areas: Virtual Matt, Brewspaper, Loretta, Amazing Crap, Project Spam, and the Clog (what the hell was that?), for example. Don't get me wrong, we are quite strong in the messageboard arena, and our manifesto is somewhat tight. Anyway, what I am trying to say is that this biotch could be streamlined. Streamlining will take place, and if you have thoughts regarding this enterprise, send them to me. Beyond the current web insturment, there is the ever-present question of new sonic material. Rest assured, it is here. Also, you can be modestly confident that it will be published. I heard something of it again last night. Forgetting Tufu? I received an unusual missive from the former offices of King Tufu. Evidently, "The King Is Dead". Really dead. In case you don't recall, listen to the prognostication here. In any case, I represent the contents of the email here: Something about dumping more digital garbage into an already vast digital wasteland seems distasteful but for some reason the temptation is overwhelming, kind of like fast food at 3 AM. OK then here is the score for all you cocksocketonian faithful... the ones who really care and have been waiting all these months to find out. Sooner or later I have to resolve all this as part of my twelve steps anyway. Frittering yo' time away It is recommended that you fritter your time away with the following meritorious instruments: Television
It has finished, and I kicked them fool mofos right squarely in the ass. Seems pretty irrelevant in the summer, but hey! Who are you to judge? Do you want some action on Tiger to win the British Open or something?
Men's NCAA Basketbal Tournament
Cocksocket: 65%
Happy Valentines Day, y'all. I was listening to NPR yesterday, and I heard a piece about a little bit of kissing research that had been recently completed. You can listen to the report here, and I encourage you to do so before reading further so that you may form your own opinions, attitudes, and whatnot. In short: In the interesting but perhaps less-than-useful department, a study shows people have a 2-to-1 preference to lean their heads to the right when diving in for a smooch. Lynn Neary talks with Onur Gunturkun, professor of biopsychology at Ruhr University, Bochum, Germany, and author of the study. On the surface, mildly interesting, no? Further evidence of a natural human favoritism of the right, and a good listen on the ride home. But what I didn't know going in was that our Professor Gunturkun was not quite right in the head, even by the lax standards that we must apply to professors. First, the original objective of the study was to determine whether humans have a natural prediliction for the right. So why watch people kissing each other? If you are perveted, or sexually frustrated, or both then maybe. But wouldn't it be a whole lot easier to observe, for example, people engaging in handshakes or hugs? Second, after he adopted the "kissing research methodology", Prof G. was forced to consider the setting for his study. Because local high-school "orgy parties" may be locally biased, he instead chose to study kissing at airports. International airports. So the research was conducted at airports in Germany, America, and Turkey. In my view it would be far less interesting to visit airports than local high-school "orgy parties" in 3 different countries. Opting for the orgies would control for regional biases, allow the complete satisfaction of the underlying perverse tendencies, and (most importantly) beef up the sample size Third, speaking of sample size, the results of the study, namely that people tend go in for the kiss by tilting their heads to the right side, are based on observations of 124 kisses. 124 kisses. 40 kisses per airport. I mean COME ON! What kind of statistical rigor is that? This freak probably spent no more than his typical wait time at the gate on a roundabout trip home; he is from Turkey, afterall. Probably had a ticket booked from Germany, to New York, spend a couple of nights hittin' the town / boozin' it up, then off to Turkey to visit gramma Gunturkun. I don't mean to seem unromantic, but this is really just the sad tale of a lonely, horny, Turkish "professor", sidelined in Berlin, just waiting to get home to see granny. Made me angry...
02.12.03
Download death rally, death rally divX
In what fictional park to Yogi and Boo-Boo reside?
02.11.03
Well, it is a new year, and even though I have had much time away, I do not yet feel relaxed, refreshed, or really very attuned to what's going on. Many items contribute to this, including the sleeplessness, the pregnancy, the job, the drinking, and the incessant neighborhood streaking.
After many troubles with the [former] site host, we moved our enterprise to someone else's servers. Everything happened quite quickly and unexpectedly, but we are now on the mend. The J-Tag has been temporarily removed until such a time as I am able to refashion it to speak correctly with the new machines (machines, meet J-Tag. J-Tag, meet machines).
Matt's Sports Beat built slowly but madly to a deafening crescendo over the course of the football season. But then, just as it was about to blow it's MSB wad, everything went dark. Picks for the final week of the regular season were made, and then never tallied. The post season was altogether neglected. This must all be retroactively rectified in order for such an entity as this to persist.
Speaking of football, Mrs. Captain and I were distracted in Las Vegas last month for the big game. It was quite an adventure with the free beer, casinos, etc. Nickle slots, Quarter craps, and ten-dollar bills riding on inconsequential College basketball games. We came out ahead, until our return flight was delayed and Delta forced upon us the horrors of travel purgatory.
In any case, even without the sporadic updates that this place has been accustomed to, readership continues to grow at a steady clip. However, not many among you are actually listening to the music. Given the spirit of this update, I strongly recommend Delicious Screed. The other songs are here.
12.28.02
Closing up shop... See you all in the new year
12.21.02
I have collected some things to share with this fanatical, cocksocketonian contingent. First comes a bit of meandering that was done last week. What is at stake here? Football and cheese. Second is a little recollection of the Pollywog celebrations that occurred on the battleship where my grandfather served in World War II. Apart from these meek offerings, you may not expect much. I shall be travelling extensively over the next 2 weeks, and may be on vacation immediately following. Until such a time as we come to meet again, I send my warmest regards. Have a safe and happy holiday season, and feel free to warm yourselves with eggnog and Cocksocket's Greatest Christmas Hit.
Ciao!
[earlier this week...]
The Arizona / St. Louis football is on right now, and, while it may be a little more exciting than I thought it was going to be, it is nevertheless quite dull. The Sopranos season is over. I am bored.
Reflecting on my Football picks for this weekend, I cannot help but be amazed, wondering (at times aloud) "what was I thinking?" or "why would you do that?" My picks came after the IU game last night, and after the black-and-tan-soaked celebrations, and after leaving black-and-tan-soaked rumblings on the answering machines of many of my friends across the country, and sometime before collapsing (in the bed this time) into a shallow, anemic slumber. So you could blame my state of mind, and this would be valid if only it were somehow different than the other 14 occasions when I have made my picks. Looks to me like this will be my first week with more losses than wins; It appears that I will relinquish my long-held mastery of the competition as well. So it goes.
Because I am bored, I decided to answer a question that has been scratching at my very soul for several years now. The question: "What is cheese food, and how is it different from cheese?" I have learned many things on my journey.
Here's what I learned from the FDA
:
[Code of Federal Regulations] [Title 21, Volume 2] [Revised as of April 1, 2002
From the U.S. Government Printing Office via GPO Access
[CITE: 21CFR133.3] [Page 308]
TITLE 21--FOOD AND DRUGS CHAPTER I--FOOD AND DRUG ADMINISTRATION, DEPARTMENT OF HEALTH AND HUMAN SERVICES (CONTINUED) PART 133--CHEESES AND RELATED CHEESE PRODUCTS
--Table of Contents Subpart A--
General Provisions Sec. 133.3 Definitions
(a) Milk means the lacteal secretion, practically free from colostrum, obtained by the complete milking of one or more healthy cows, which may be clarified and may be adjusted by separating part of the fat therefrom; concentrated milk, reconstituted milk, and dry whole milk. Water, in a sufficient quantity to reconstitute concentrated and dry forms, may be added. (b) Nonfat milk means skim milk, concentrated skim milk, reconstituted skim milk, and nonfat dry milk. Water, in a sufficient quantity to reconstitute concentrated and dry forms, may be added. (c) Cream means cream, reconstituted cream, dry cream, and plastic cream. Water, in a sufficient quantity to reconstitute concentrated and dry forms, may be added. (d) Pasteurized when used to describe a dairy ingredient means that every particle of such ingredient shall have been heated in properly operated equipment to one of the temperatures specified in the table of this paragraph and held continuously at or above that temperature for the specified time (or other time/temperature relationship which has been demonstrated to be equivalent thereto in microbial destruction):
ibm battery
by John Muldowney USS J. R. Y. Blakely DE 140 "Ninety percent of our crew were Pollywogs, (that is a person who has not crossed the equator). We knew that we were all in for a good hazing. All of our Chief and First Class Petty Officers were Shellback. Most of them had served on the battleships that went down at Pearl Harbor. Tradition was a big thing with them. The day before we were to go over, the Shellbacks constructed the 'Royal Bath.' This was a pool about four feet deep and about seven by seven feet square. A handy billy was then rigged and sea water was pumped into the 'Royal Bath' and mixed with diesel oil. Word was passed that Davie Jones was to come aboard that evening and we were to entertain him on the fantail. Some had to dance for him, others told stories or recited poetry. I was lucky in being in a singing group. After the entertainment we were presented with a summons to King Neptune's Court the next day. Breakfast was piped at eight bells for all Shellbacks the next morning. Our Ensign had been lowered and the 'Jolly Roger' was hoisted. This meant that the hazing was underway. Steak and eggs was the meal for the Shellbacks. We had hard tack and coffee made with salt water. Various charges were levied against the Pollywogs. Officers were dealt with more harshly than enlisted men. We had a lieutenant who had been in the First World War. He was a Mustang with 25 years of service, but had never crossed the line. Accused of painting the town when we were in New York, he was made to climb the rigging with a bucket of paint. Another officer was ordered to the forecastle with two coke bottles for binoculars to keep a look out of the mail buoy. I was accused of impersonating an Irishman, and had to eat an Irish apple, (which was a raw onion). As you knelt before the Judge in King Neptune's Court, you were ordered to kiss the Royal Baby. He was the ugliest guy on the ship. A bucket of mustard was hidden behind him and when you went to kiss him, he reached back to the bucket and hit you with a handful of mustard. The royal barber was next. He had electric clippers that kept shocking you as he cut your hair. After that came the 'Royal Bath.' You had to say Shellback three times as they were dunking you. Running the gauntlet was the final stage of the exercise. A tarp was spread out on deck and greased with graphite, over it about a foot was strung a cargo net. You had to crawl along the tarp for about ten yards with Shellbacks paddling you and another at the end with a fire hose to drive you back just when you thought you were through. When it was all over you could take a deep breath and with great pride say: Now I am a Shellback." There you have it, then...
Love,
12.14.02
We always try to keep it fresh (like ladies' underdrawers). Cocksocket humbly announces two new experimental delights. We're Not Machines is a little work of art worked up by workmen of unknown substance and contribution. 2 years old, this thing is just getting it's "rock" on. Also, here's a new Pink Floyd cover: Two Suns, from the Final Cut record. Believe you me, it is touching. Send your comments / tears here: yo' captain. These songs will not be here for the long run, so get 'em while you can...
12.03.02
It is time for a piece of spasmodical vomitonium, an type of ancient chemical element so vivid and organic, so overpowering to human senses, that (until now) it did not last more than a fleeting moment in time. It was not (until now) perceived for long enough to establish its very presence, let alone its place on the Table of Elements. As if vomitonium were not precious enough, it is said that the spasmodical variety is 1,000 times less common. In nature.
Pants, Wines, Thanksgiving, The Past, Matt's Sports Beat, Indiana Basketball, King Tufu & Dr. R, Toby
I got new pants. Fancy pants made of wool and in a variety of colors. Some pants are heavy, some lighter. All of them make my "tush" look "delightful". I like to get pants and I like to wear them. The more pants there are, well, the better your day will be
There are 3 different kinds of Chardonnay in my refrigerator right now. The circumstances under which this situation came about are unclear, undiscussable. Now listen, I am no wine connoisseur. I'll go ahead and call my own tastebuds "retarded". But it is important to approach this sort of multi-wine-bottle phenomenon in the appropriate way. So here's what I did: I lined up 3 glasses, each containing a different wine, and I spent some time sniffing and rubbing (the glass, of course) and tasting and gulping. Later I shall go and read some tasting notes from the winespectator, or some such place, and see how well I did. But for now, I live in the moment. Now, I present my neophylatical assesmentation of these yellow bottles of joy:
Yellow Tail, 2002
Sterling, 2001
Thanksgiving was fantastical yet again this year. The advantages Thanksgiving has over other holidays are insurmountable. There is a big ass Turkey; there are several other kinds of food; there is a license to eat all day long; there are seconds and thirds; there is football on the TV (like twice); there are leftovers; there is fine china; there is gravy; there's a parade; and in the end, it is all about being grateful. Grateful godammit! No contest.
I rooted around and found last year's menu, and edited it to suit this year. The cooking began promptly at 8:00 and we broke our bread at 1:00. Even the cold I had developed seemed to give a day-long reprieve. And that was a day of Naked Mountain, the best of the Virginia Wines (forget these other pretenders, this one kicked "ass" when it came to 'mouthfeel', 'body', 'fruity delights', etc.)
In the Past
1 year ago
2 years ago
Thanksgiving is a time for binging and purging all the wicked and nasty thoughts of self denial you had earlier in the year. During Lent. Also Thanksgiving is a time for parades, panties, and pigskin. Therefore, Matt / Loretta proudly presents his / her First Annual Artificially Expanded Sports Beatzz.
Matt's Sports Beat is marching relentlessly forward. I (naturally) continue to dominate all pickers with some picks that are absolutely picktastic. Matt trails Dave by 7 games, and Dave trails me by 1. The idiot is all alone under 50%. In Week 3, when the picks were tighter, Matt had the following to say:
As Giambi says: "Play like an All-Star, Party like a Rock-Star, Hammer lik a Porn-Star"! (My new creedo
Here is my question. Matt, you were well over 50%, so who will the Superbowl champs be? With whom will you party (like a Rock-Star)? Whom will you hammer (like a Porn-Star)? Please Hammer, Don't Hurt 'Em…
Speaking of sports, Indiana Basketball is back and full swing yet again. Tonight, the Hoosiers face off against the Terrapins in a rematch of last year's championship game. Indiana lost Jared Jeffries last year, while Maryland lost Juan Dixon, Lonnie Baxter, and Chris Wilcox. Even so, both teams look great this year. Yesterday's AP poll ranked Indiana at 10 and Maryland at 9. After a 4-0 start, the Hoosiers look stronger than they have in 10 years, since Alan Henderson was on the team, hell, since Calbert was there. Woohoopitydoo! Let the record show that Indiana is favored by 3.5 points
What Tufu Says:
A nice Halloween piece.
And, of course, the robot letter:
On Fri Oct 18, 2002 at 08:25:14 PM EDT I was unable to reach your web site: http://cocksocket.netrunner.cx/email09260101.html due to the following error: Time Out
What Toby Says (Finally, what's up with the Toby?): Word up.
10.24.02
"What we have here is a failure to communicate..."
I see two extraordinary and conflicting trends in the world of the 'Socket. First (1), cocksocketonian updates and contributator authorship is not merely waning, but rather flagging, and the underlying machine of this "experiment in organica" is not merely apparent, but also gathering rust. Second (2), readership is at an all time high. God bless you people (many French) coming to visit; can one of you peculiar folks drop me a line and inform me of your psychic connexions to this spot? Your questions and suggestions will be answered and honored respectfully, respectively.
The original intent here was to proffer Cocksocket, the burdgeoning musical experiment--a bygone scratch for the Captain's communicatory itch. And proffered is that which was to be proffered (check it out in the music section). In addition, there was an call for collaborative content which was answered diligently by Matt, King Tufu--even Admin Steve, Konstantinos, and Alex (albeit somewhat unwittingly) have added their stitches to the tapestry. Consider this an echo then, reverberating from from every wall in the canyon of Cocksocket--a second urge to act, write, invite, or simply add 1 to the 0 of enjoyment. Your communications (even if you are French) will be incorporated into this mess.
I like saliva.
Regarding the music: you masses seem to be done enjoying it. What's worse? Cocksocket's capacity for creating new works has been capped. The studio was growing quietly, steadily, grafted onto the skin of the computer. But that effort was pruned to the nub. For the immediate future, no archived music will be encoded / uploaded. And what small output of new stuff there is will be of questionable quality and accessibility. "So it goes..."
As promised, the litany of Football picks have been removed from this main page, and put plainly in their place: Matt's Sports Beat. Do not be alarmed! Matt is undergoing the same mystic infection that is felt by the whole goddam Cocksocket. However, the ailment may soon be alimented:
It's that "Black and Tan" time of year again. Now that I have the 30-ounce glass, I can mix a full bass and a guiness "widget" can in a single large serving of goodness. Tasty Goodness. On the brewing front, our Imperial Stout is 3-weeks old, the brewing supplies for the next Pale Ale are in transit, and we are doubtful that, when all is said and done and poured, the black will actually rest atop the tan. We are less sure just what the fuck such a concoction will taste like.
10.19.02
Apologies to all of ye Cocksocketonian masses who thirst for something more striking than a glimpse of genius, something more varied than a litany of Matt's Sports Beat picks, something more active than a J-Tag, messageboard, or search term tool. To ye I say, Relax! In time ye shall behold the oneness! Until then, however, I present week 7:
10.10.02
El Capitan will be away on a sojurn to New York City. There, he will attempt to recruit a more urban, younger, hipper segment as fanatics. Picks are below. That is all...
10.08.02
Your captain will be incommunicado for a day. Or two. Or three. Oh hell, I don't know how long. The studio is coming down and things are happening beyond your control. And mine. Of course, the weekly picks will be updated to the best of my ability. All other bets are off.
10.05.02
09.21.02
Right off the bat... BING!...Matt's latest sports beat has [mostly] arrived. Dave is incommunicado now, but I will rendevous with him tomorrow BEFORE any games begin. I will acqire his picks then, and post them as soon as I am able. Rest assured, the process is intact. Anyway, I will attach the preliminary picks here, but make sure you visit the real site for Matt's new, cryptic epigram.
I am a big fan of the NFL Ticket that DIRECTV is offering. Now, I am a digital cable man myself, but Dave & possesses the DIRECTV. What's more: he chooses to splurge on the Sunday Ticket. What this means is that for the cost of a couple of measly 6-packs each Sunday, I am entitled to watch a lot of football. It's not a total cakewalk, though. In case you hadn't noticed, Dave is an indefatigable Detroit Lions fanatic (poor bastard). So I have to watch the Lions game before all others. Lately this has not posed a problem, because of how the Lions games tend to be over midway through the first quarter. Mrs. Dave is all about the Dolphins, so they are pretty much number 2 on the menu. But even with the Colts a distant 3rd preference in that NFL Sunday Ticket household, it's all good. We have the ingredients for our next batch of homebrew -- our first attempt at an Imperial (and when I say 'imperial' I mean 'muthafuckin' imperial') Stout. The hops is, shall we say, in abundance. I imagine that the brewing will take place next weekend. In the restaurant tonight, I finally saw the video of that woman beating the hell out of her kid in the Kohl's parking lot in Indiana. People are amazing! Video camers are amazing, too! As striking as the video is, I sort of wonder how it became national news so quickly. As much as I would like to believe that this was a completely anomalous event, I have to think that something of this nature and magnitude happens regularly. Is it that strange, or did we just happen to see this one? And if we just happened to see it, that begs the question: who is monitoring all of those heralded, decried, bastard video cameras that spy on all of us everyday? And what's up with the surname -- "Toogood". Is somebody pulling my leg? And now if I want to see the video on CNN, I get an advertisement to subscribe to their video service. If I recall correctly, CNN broke the story. I almost feel un-American suggesting that this whole thing is some kind of perverse commercial for a new interactive news capacity that the geniuses over at AOLTW have concocted. So I won't suggest that. Instead, I will just go grab another Icehouse. acumen
09.16.02
Thanks everybody for playing. The former site host has been purchased by a new site host. Confusion occurred, picks were muddled, the fans they was a-scanderlized. It's been a confusing pile of days over here at cocksocket central. For your captain as well as for you.
Even so, the peeps has submitted them picks. The launch of MSB '03 could have been more crisp, but we are underway all the same. Matt posted the best week 1, but his "golden picking eye" is a little out of focus this week.
Week 2:
I watched a couple of movies last weekend. The first, Orange County, was not terrible. Even though I am a nearly-homosexually-charged Jack Black fan, I was expecting a soggy piece of morally refined shit. And, to be fair, it was just that. Just not to the expected degree. The second film, The Gift, was sensational. Go watch it 'cause it's good. Great ensemble vehicle. Great story. Great Cate
My Studio's days are numbered. The stack of recording goodness in the office corner has been sentenced to a cardboard box in oblivio while we clear out the office for new critters to live in. Although, the presence of the TASCAM 234 has been titular at best since we moved into this place, it represented the promise of archives yet to be restored. The new configuration will be nothing more than a notebook roaming by means of a wireless network. I don't know what that means for making music, but if I had to guess, I would say that it will be more "electronic" than "organic". Blast!
I tried to help you all I can
In addition, the cauldrons are turning and someone has let the droid out of the bang
09.09.02
Matt's Sports Beat is off. It is beating off like a good sporty thing should. Even though updates were not made until Monday evening, all picks were submitted in advance of the games. Cocksocket has even contracted a 3rd party auditor (Andersen) to certify the Week 1 picks in an independent 'ritual'. You may see it here, or below (whichever you prefer...)
08.28.02
White America: I could be one of your kids.
Football season is approaching faster than the nimblest 300-pound offensive lineman through the line of scrimmage, and Cocksocket is preparing more slowly than a primping pro bowl quarterback. Matt has been organizing his thoughts, and even mailed in a preseason beat or two. You, the loyal Cocksocket reader, standard bearer, persevering through the stanky quagmire of what used to be the crown socket on the tip of the cock, as it were, however, are not yet privy to those delights. The Matt's Sports Beat delights, I mean. And here is why you are not yet informed: golf (what a stupid game!), and the Sony handheld that I just picked up.
If you have any questions or comments, send them in. Otherwise, I simply offer a look into my early adventures with the Clie.
08.12.02
I have flipped the switch and now the light shines upon all the nodes and connexions contained here in the cocksocketonian sludge.
Writing this message will be my first official "redesigned" activity. I believe that this design is about 60% of the way done. You will find many new and exciting things here, and you will find many things that work improperly or don't work at all.
With that in mind, my second official "redesigned" activity will be to create a list of cocksocket to-do's. This list will comprise the basic elements of the website that need to be corrected or implemented or even removed. As soon as I finish this message, I will open the to-do list here: http://www.cocksocket.org/todo.html. Surely you will want to peruse this list, and you may even want to police it to make sure that the quality of your adventures in Socketonium represent authentic value. A task even more important than these--the essential task--is that you work with the site, and alert your captain to any errors / misstatements / etc. If you find something wrong, drop me a line: captain@cocksocket.org.
Peace and how you be G,
CAPTAIN FORMALDEHYDE
05.23.02
Don't forget to join the fun...
05.20.02
Ode on a whiny bitch
My plate is full
So here are some quick updates to maximize your pleasurable enjoyment of this humble offering of Cocksocketonian Delights
Goodbye.
05.14.02
Thanks, kids, for tuning in so early, so often, and ever so vehemently. I have got home around 8:30, five beers later (10:30) my typing skillz are under indictment. I have conducted a moderately detailed analysis of Cocksocket Usage, between February and April, 2002. Here are some results:
Overall
Song (downloads)
Per User
If anybody out there can make any sense out of this, bring it on. I will post it...
05.07.02
I am back from North Carolina. The beach. Nags Head. I like it there, even when it pours the torrential rains of God's own overspray. It was so windy there one time that I could lean fully forward, intending to fall, and the wind held me up for a couple of seconds. O Wind! Mighty wind. Fierce wind. Wind unkind to high irons. Wind of enmity for vanilla balls in the sky. Aaaah!
Also. I ate some shark while I was away.
I bought ridiculously costly golf sticks. They will be shipped to me next week. I got a wicked sunburn on Friday, even in the extreme conditions. Chicks dig me 'cause I gets tan! I finally made my way to the Weeping Radish. It was disappointing because of the beer, but them sausages was damn good! They was the wurst!
Recently, on the J-tag, there have been some rumblings from "Futu", evidently a spokes-entity for the secret clan of the Ufutu. Here is what Futu had to say:
According to a report from the kind Doctor, Tufu has gone missing since sometime in the middle of October, 2001. Since that time, DR R has been handling the TUFU, Inc. beat. To hear the Doc tell it, the King was on some type of incomprehensible vacation on a different, equally incomprehensible plane, making peace with entities unobservable by your typical Cocksocketonian Observer. Whatever. It was so confusing that I essentially overlooked 2 unusual events at the start of this year. First, King Tufu reappeared just long enough to (conveniently) explain his recent whereabouts and (inconveniently) direct a tirade at DR R. Second, within 3 weeks, Gnawbone was a-burnin'.
As I say, all of this seemed natural enough, and (frankly) we here were all just trying to get our heads around the tragedy of it all. Time passed. DR R got his own email address, and an invitation to fill out tournament brackets. But now, there appears to be unease in one slice of the universe or another. Futu is demanding the "release" of a king (King Tufu, we presume). And a cryptic exchange has developed on the new, improved, in-yo'-face, kick-you-in-the-gums messageboard.
04.25.02
It may be mossy and moldy over here, but (lord have mercy) yo' capitan is brewing again. The brewspaper has been drawing my attention, and soon (or maybe in a while) I will be drinking my own beer. Dave has been miraculously helpful in this endeavor, and he is of German origin, so he has some sort of innate, inalienable sense of what good beer is. I follow him like a puppy dog waggling tongue toward the ass of perfect beer. I am not gay. Not that there is anything wrong with that.
I was in the shower this morning and I began tapping my toe, and stomping my brain, and singing an old Robyn Hitchcock song. I wrote him a letter to confirm that I am as cool as he. He will let me know (the jury is out). After I sent off the email, last night around midnight, Storefront Hitchcock came on one of the Showtime channels. Really sort of a strange coincidence. I never thought that I would get a chance to see that film. I have listened to the record a lot. Both are very good.
There is yet another, superior incarnation of the message board waiting for your posts, you know. I mean this stuff is not trivial to create. So go use it. Where are you, King Tufu?
04.15.02
Ahhh! What a sweet vacation have I had. There are many things to recount, and reclassify; so much has happened already in April.
First, the NCAA basketball season, and my principal annual distraction, is finished. While it may be a shame to see it go, it was nevertheless sweet to see the Hoosiers negotiate so brilliantly through the stew.
And then I took some time off work to sit around, and motor around, and bum around; and company came and went, and it was good.
Then, about the time that I got back to working, I also got back to buying games for the XBOX--Triple Play Baseball and (much more distracting) Tony Hawk's Pro Skater 3. I have pretty much made my way through THPS3, but not without countless hours lost to the television and that goddam vibrating controller. And don't even get me started on the "force feedback" controller. What an idiotic contrapcion! I suppose the idea is to make the game more real, or something. But just how am I supposed to feel more engaged with the skating if my goddam controller starts shaking and reeling when I fall off the skateboard, or when I grind a rail, or when some jack-ass knocks me over? It is good on the inverts, though. Makes good sense there.
Then, about the time that I got back to buying games, I got back to buying movies (did I ever really quit?). Now I got a stack of DVDs as tall as my ankle that I have to watch. And it's not all peaches and gravy there either. Some of these movies kind of suck. I haven't even been able to get through the one about Jay and Silent Bob, because it hasn't become any better a movie, no matter how many times I stop it in the middle.
Also, regarding beer, a plan has been hatched wherein Dave and I are going to concoct our own malty, hoppy serum with boiling water and tubes and carboys and stuff. Of course, we have been hatching an ingenious, meticulous plan to initiate the concoctions, and this plan has taken much planning (as planners will do to plans). And here, in the plan to concoct beer, is the first real deadline that I have had in ages: Friday we sanitize; Saturday we brew.
And Sunday there is Golf. And I can pick up the pottery I painted last week, too!
Enough of the apology, now here's some utter remorse for the site being down for 2 days last week. So many of you wrote in with gentle words, it was enough to get me through the tragedy, and I promise one day to repay you all for your heartfelt outpouring of sympathy.
No new music today, but the seeds are cooking in my brain and the oils are starting to warm and sizzle around my littlest bones. Also, don't forget to get your copies of the recent shit today! [[some days you are the horse]] [[(this is) absolute fucking bullshit]] [[delicious screed]].
The new messageboard has been launched! Loretta has created, nurtured, punished, gutted, and recreated it in taciturn fashion. Go there and post some shit!
Finally, it appears that Cocksetonium has been disregarding the missives of Mr. Dr R. Mr. Dr R has been sending links (on behalf of King Tufu) and regular updates regarding the Saga of the Tufu. I have been enjoying these myself while selfishly keeping them from the tired eyes of the tired Cocksocket Masses. My Bad! This will have to do for now:
Links
Tufu In Chains
Damn kids left Tufu in the zip drive again. I look at
the message board and there he is. It's not safe I
tell you. Now I have taken the zip disk and locked it
away in a very dark and remote location. I was
planning on revealing the truth about Bugsy "King"
Tufu's fate but I got busy rootin' for the Hoosiers
and all. It hardly matters now. The little bastard can
do us no harm where he is residing.
Mac is quite handy with a computer. After the
humiliating journey we took in search of the Tufu, Mac
was livid when he read the denial that King Tufu
issued which was really just a bad cover story. Bora
Bora my ass. What do Vince Foster, Frank Nugan, Lee
Harvey Oswald and Bugsy Malone all have in common?
They have all been duped by the almighty King Poo-Poo
and they have all wound up dead under mysterious
circumstances.
Here is a tidbit we uncovered in a search of Tufu's
files. The "King" responded to a radio signal produced
at Long Island on July 4th 1903 by Nikola Tesla. Tesla
was angry because J. P. Morgan had just refused to
fund his research into wireless electrical
transmission and so he went out to has laboratory and
produced one of the most dazzling displays of
electricity ever seen.
Tufu is a bizarre electromagnetic phenomenon and is
capable of crossing many multidimensional properties,
but he/she/it has met his/her/it's match in the form
of the Personal Computer and Mac the Janitor.
It wasn't hard to track him down. Mac posted a
personal ad that read "Cybernetically" equipped human
female bl/br seeks quasifictional multidimensional
entity to download to my floppy drive. Serious
inquiries only." Within minutes of posting Mac had
begun to download and Tufu was saved as (file name
deleted for security purposes)
There is no way to send him back to from where he
came and I don't have the heart to delete him, but I
don't want to end up like the others, involved in
shady liaisons with unsavory characters in politically
unseemly circumstances and then toe tagged. This is
what becomes of those who somehow attract this menace
into their lives by producing patterns of
electromagnetic radiation that suit his existence. I
have already had my home and my cats barbecued by
aliens and I am a fugitive from the law in the most
peculiar arson case in the entire history of Gnawbone.
Since I have had him trapped on the zip disk my food
tastes better, people seem friendlier and the Hoosiers
beat Duke. I think I am going to keep him like that
for a very long time. I have all his files and I might
be persuaded to produce some of them if the mood
strikes me. Meanwhile I am running this shit now, and
all things Ufutian have been indefinitely suspended
like hunks of pineapple in lime jelly.
Absent Malice,
04.06.02
I am not quite back yet. Just popping by for a splash of entertangmont (as the French might call it).
After a very painful Hoosier hangover, I have finally finished updating the NCAA brackets. The NCAA seeding committee picked best (67% correct). I guess there is something to be said for geographic preference, eh?
Working on a newsletter to deal with cocksocketonian progress, site traffic, new crap, etcetera. I already have Matt's contribution, but I will not share it today.
I finished reading the last book, and have happened upon another. And beer brewing is to begin presently. I will keep you posted once things return to abnormal.
Toodaloo.
03.31.02
03.30.02
Cocksocketonian comrades, cocksocketonian audience, cocksocketonian participants: lend me your ears.
I am malfunctioning today, and will be otherwise occupied (differently disposed) for the next week or so. I will be away from the office, but certainly collecting my voice mail and checking emails. I am most likely to be unresponsive before 6 (pm). I have given the entire staff the week off.
State your business above, in the fixed, perl-ized j-tag thing (thanks Matt). Or send classified comments here: captain@cocksocket.org.
Finally, the game should not be nearly as lopsided as everyone seems to think (with or without Coverdale)
03.25.02
I continue to bewilder myself. Several months ago, my monitor expired, and I replaced it with a 15" badboy. Today I finally put in the replacement and, DAMN! Everything is big and crisp. I enlarged the resolution, and now cocksocket.org looks quite a bit crappier. I can't put my finger on it, exactly, but there are a few things amiss. It's too big a problem to begin addressing now, but I welcome your feedback in advance of the next page redesign.
Some Days You Are The Horse is finally, legitimately up, so listen to it now (if necessary, whet your appetite with the tiny version). Here's a Cocksocketonian Expcerptification from almost exactly one year ago:
All this and more! In a particularly scrappy, finely-honed-shooting fashion the Hoosiers have landed themselves smack dab in the middle of the final four. It's a different type thing, not exactly like a 92-93 team that featured the likes of Mr. Cheaney and Mr. Henderson. It may be more exotic now than ever before, and I am therefore bewildered.
There have been reports filtering in concerning Dr. R, site updates by the eternally sexy Matt, and even a missive from the far reaches of Greece--from the fingers of koustakis. But I am too bewildered to inform now.
03.21.02
03.15.02
I am blushing crimson. A Hurryin' Hoosier squad which
should have run off with the conference championship
and the tournament once again finds itself in the Big
Dance, limping across the finish line. Hope springs
eternal in the heart of this loyal fan, but it has
been a long long long long time since the Cream and
Crimson has given us any March pleasure here in
Mudville. Injuries have been plentiful this season
along with tough breaks, bad calls and being on the
losing end of many close contests.
I want to join in on the chorus booing the selection
committee for having the gall to leave mighty Butler
out of the tournament this year. Boo to you on behalf
of Ball U. as well. And while I am coming to the
defense of these small Indiana schools I must also
disclose that this is why I can never make good picks
in the NCAA tournament. My picks always show my
freakin' bleedin' heart fandom out there on my lapel
glowing like Dick Vitales nose. I want the final four
to be Valpo, Butler, Ball State, and Indiana… EVERY
YEAR. And I want Indiana to win… EVERY YEAR.
I'm sick of Duke, Kansas, North Carolina… (ANY team
from North Carolina.) Kentucky, Stanford… I'm sick of
them all. From now on I only want teams from Indiana
to win. Except Purdue. Not Purdue. They should (as
always) remain losers.
DR. R
03.12.02
Yes! Cocksocket is mossy and moldy once again. Again. But this time it is a different type of moss; a different style of mold! For there is, yet again, a new song. The song, which is called (This Is) Absolute Fucking Bullshit, has been almost a year in the making, and it is just now getting the finishing touches.
It started last April with some beer, samples (via Napster, god rest her soul), and some good ol' fashion pirated software. Of course, whether the software was actually pirated, I cannot say, and, even if it were, I would decline to admit to being the pirate. Or would I? At any rate, month by month, attention was paid, arrangements were maid, tradeoffs were weighed. Voila! (This Is) Absolute Fucking Bullshit was completed and released at an opportune moment, considering the ESPN movie, and the March Madness / March Mayhem / March Murder.
Speaking of that, it is time again for our unpretentious version of tournament festivities. Here is what will happen: I, Captain Formaldehyde, will prepare and publish a completed tournament bracket--straight-up filled-in with all the thoughtfully called and insightfully analyzed games that you would certainly expect from Cocksocket. In addition, Matt and Dr. R (and King Tufu for that matter, and any of you French readers, and anybody else from anywhere else) are invited to submit tournament brackets for the unyielding eyes of you, the elaborate Cocksocket readership.
Results will be meticulously tracked and measured against the final AP, RPI, and Coaches Poll rankings--as well as against the tournament committee seedings (with honest, obvious assumptions where necessary).
Participants, get your brackets here. Most everything will be done by early, pre-game Thursday morning. And, if you are interested, the crusty old result from last year is here or, if you are not in the mood for an Excel file, a jpeg can be found here (but be warned, the resolution is huge -- 1886 x 1309, and the file is big -- 270 KB).
Now, if you are thinking that all of this NCAA basketball tournament hoopla ought to be the property of Matt's Sports Beat, then I cannot disagree. As a matter of fact, I can do nothing but agree vigorously. Matt, however, both here and elsewhere, has clearly stated his views on basketball, summed up gloriously in this epigram: "basketball sucks".
Anyway, I am off now to accomplish much in a short time
Oh yeah! Check this out. WooHoo! Thanks Matt!
03.04.02
There has been an outpouring of gravy, a veritable horn-o'-plenty, streaming from Camp Tufu--in particular from Dr. R. It all started with an article, and developed (in the inimitable fashion o
organica) into a bifurcated recommendation fork, part 2 of which then developed itself into a new tune; day one of the onslaught finished with a barrage of fresh and tasty links. The following days brought an infusion of content vast enough to keep me occupied up to the present moment.
I would wait to present all these chocolatey morsels, but for the a warning from the messageboard:
The biscuits are hot, indeed.
The song that resulted is now available for download. The words, the cover, etc. are temporarily described down over there, underneath the "features" section. I have even include a "tiny" version for the unfortunate, narrowbanded Cocksocket consumers among you.
That's really all-and isn't it enough? I have been scratching my head, looking at porn, and searching for relevant Cocksocket links in an effort to provide something of further interest for you, my insatiable audience. But really, there is quite a lot here already.
For what it is worth, however, One Year Ago, Loretta was commentating and providing web site updates. That was when I was painting the old house, packing up all my shit into little boxes, consolidating my credit, and house hunting (oh what a difference a year makes!) Loretta picked up the slack, though, and on a typical March Saturday morning, around 5:00 A.M., s/he offered the following compelling column:
Everybody knew it was coming and now it is here. This is the next installment of Cocksocket update according to Loretta.
It's 5:00 am and I have found a new Internet toy to replace that which does not exist in my dull life, searching Ebay for "available" domain names.
Here is a list of names that are available at the time of this writing:
www.hotstudsxxx.com
www.daleearhardt.com
www.38-24-36.com
www.vjesuschrist.com
www.timeismoney.com
www.myvending.net
www.californiasfruit.com
www.iowashogs.com
www.webfuk.com
And then there are various "Rare 3 letter domains!" or "Rare 4 letter domains". The problem with these is that no human, outside of a coma, would imagine these 3 or 4 letters and numbers in succession. They may be rare but they are not coherent.
Ebay is a fine tool; unfortunately it also allows the mentally challenged douche bags that try to sell shit like this onto the site to stifle the useful auction items.
That is all for now. I will return next week (if needed) if the Captain is still on maximus vacationus.
Love It In The Love Tunnel,
02.27.02
Well, February is drawing it's dainty charriot across the bridge, all prepared to hand over the reins to March. Your captain has been ill and ill-directed, taking much more than he has been giving--including abrasive and hostile communications from Matt (no word from Tufu or from the resistance cohort).
As I have been spending more and more time absorbing entertaining content, I set out last week to keep a database of consumption, rigorously tracking reading, listening, viewing, and playing habits so that you, the Underserved Cocksocket Contingent, may share in the very experiences that are currently closing our channels of broadcast, and (the somewhat underused) channels of communication.
So I built it. A tidy little Excel Workbook tracking times, qualified descriptions, and summaries of the experiences. And then it occurred to me: it will take a lot of time to maintain this database--time that may be better used drinking and watching more TV, or something at least remotely along those lines. Maybe, instead of tracking my reading habits, I could even be doing something creative or productive--and updating my faithful audience all the while.
But I am not exactly in the mood for that either.
And so the seemingly endless conundrum of Captain Formaldehyde pokes its hairy fist through the panty hose: to do, or not to do, or to do, but only do it in a half-assed manner?
If anything comes of it, you may be among the first to know. In the meantime, there is some basic maintenance to be done here. Spring cleaning vis-a-vis Matt's Sports Beat, which looks to be finished until the football happens again. Speaking of Matt, he's been kind of a dick on the messageboard lately, and frankly it makes me feel like a sad little girl. Send him a message, and don't forget to work the phrase "assface ballsucker" into the subject line.
February site traffic has been a Barbequed Enigma wrapped in a Mexican Mystery, stuffed and deep fried in a Spanish Eggroll. February's visits were down 33% (although this is somewhat overstated as February contains 10% fewer days). Downloaded content, however, was up a whopping 21% in February over January; this marks the first month during which an equivalent of the entire site was downloaded. The French, god bless, still visited in droves--but the interest seems to be softening like swiss cheese on the counter.
Here are some of the most popular search terms from February:
Oh yeah! Check this out. WooHoo! Thanks Matt!
02.11.02
The two bodies were personal experiments of mine, as well.
So, okay then, everything around here is beginning to smell familiar, soft, and musty. Typically, in times of relative Cocksocketonian inactivity, there is something finer than coffee or beer brewing. But nothing is brewing now. Your Captain is, well, distracted, and hasn't the time for all the finer, more important things in life. Not that distraction is all bad, and, come on, it is quite necessary.
While the sports world may be more animated than Saturday Morning cereal boxes, the Football season is deader than a hang-nail. And while the studio is undergoing a type of growth spurt, activities taking place on and around the equipment are in hibernation.
Whatever, though. Trust in your Captain. Come like little monkeys into the branches of delight. Slide like green and purple fishes throughout the gutters of the house that Milt built. That is all.
02.02.02
Still Maintaining a Carrier Signal
The two bodies were personal experiments of mine
that just didn't quite work out. Bodies are difficult
to manifest and they require an incredibly
unreasonable commitment of other vital resources. My
research shows they are also somewhat difficult to
dispose of. I figured I'd have a couple of friends
from the Bgnamouey 23rd Solar Fleet fly over and torch
that old dump, thus freeing myself up for
interdimensional exchange as well as putting Dr R on
the spot. I figure he is far from Gnawbone by now. The
cats unfortunately did not possess multidimensional
characteristics. Alas the myth of cats having nine
lives has also been disproved.
I have not seen nor heard from the vermin who
previously occupied positions on my staff and frankly
the whole Futunian scene has turned ugly. The links
have been torched along with everything else and it
looks like my lawyer has skipped the country with one
of his other clients, a leggy brunette formerly in the
accounting division at Enron. On top of all that my
Bgnamoueian friends are catching flak from their
Supreme Ghakkiblat who got a call from Dick Cheney
complaining about the high profile nature of his
pilots targets in Gnawbone.
Keep this in mind, at this moment my spellchecker has
highlighted Futunian, Bgnamoueian, Ghakkiblat and
Cheney. This will be important later.
I must agree that the Hoosiers are looking better
than they have in years. They are really playing
defense now and showing a hell of a lot of versatility
on the offensive side. After blasting Illinois with a
Big 10 record 17 three-point shots, they beat Purdue
by dominating in the paint, and once again playing
stifling defense. As I write this the outcome of the
contest at Williams Arena is still unknown to this
space-time paradigm. All I can really say is this is a
pivotal match and the Gophers are the toughest road
game in the conference this year for everybody.
So to sum up… bodies are difficult to manifest and
dispose of, cats don't live forever, Dick Cheney is an
alien and the Hoosiers are doing pretty good so far.
Many more links have been sent and many more are on
the way as I desperately scramble to re-establish the
connection to my subjects is needed to maintain a
sense of identity, which is the only way I can
manifest myself on this plane. It ain't easy being
Tufu.
Sincerely Real,
01.31.02
I am stoked, for the Hoosiers have demolished Purdue, and co-own a lead of the Big Ten. These last two games, against Illinois and Purdue, have been sensationally lopsided. I do not recall an Indiana basketball team playing with so much natural juice since 1993. Whoopity Doo! But I digress, as sports tends to be an area best left to Matt.
NEW MATT'S SPORTS BEAT HERE! Everybody involved picked St. Louis to win the big game. I thought for sure that The Idiot was going New England's way.
And another thing about IU Basketball. If Matt's Sports Beat is planning to fold after the big game Sunday--if the superbowl marks the end of this year's Sports beat--I think we need to recruit Tufu to comment on the remainder of the Big Ten season, the tournament, etc. I will be happy to provide color to Mr. King Tufu's Play-By-Play! Something like last year's fiasco, you dig?
Let me direct your attention now to Cocksocket's message board, tirelessly maintained by Loretta. If you visit the board, you will find a rich, 3-dimensional conversation between the quasi-illuminati:
 01.22.02
Holy crap! We are at the end of January, and I can almost feel the slippery, watery, effects of the XBOX as more and more of my time is sucked up and funneled away like the heat that spills out of the tray when I eject a game. Dave Mirra in the morning, a quick round of Amped at Lunch; evenings filled with Max Payne. And it's Halo, Halo, Halo on the weekend. Throw in some new DVDs and the NFL playoffs, and, well, it's damn near impossible for a righteous feller like m'self to get anything done.
No need to shower me with pity just yet, as I have am getting my fill of sympathy from Matt already:
There are starving people in this here world. Some of those starving
bastards have money on the NFL playoffs and wish to gain some insight as to
how it be shakin' down.
Get off the pipe and on the ball, fag.
Matt
I saw A Beautiful Mind, Castaway, and Unbreakable very recently. Very good, so-so, and crappy. Also, I bought CDs by Busta Rhymes, Aphex Twin, Unwound, Mystikal, and The Crystal Method--all good. Finally, I spent a lot of time on this website. And let's not forget this one.
01.12.02
Tufu Strikes Back! Back from the pits of wherever he has been vacationing, down from the heights of whatever high place he has been overlooking stuff from on top of, King Tufu has returned to settle the issues, and rekindle its delightful relationship with its dedicated readership:
Matt's Sports Beat action continues into the Playoffs today. Everyone of any importance has weighed in and awaits (with bated breath) 4:30's kickoff. Know what I mean?
That is all for today, the remainder of which I plan to spend on Halo, Potato Crisps, Hair Cutting, what have you. Sniffit
01.06.02
Matt's Sports Beat is back on track! With a week of respite under their belts, Matt, Dave, and the idiot have returned with some bold and saucy picks for the remainder of the regular season. Matt sits a mere 11.2 games behind the Davester, and (judging from the preponderance of foul language in his latest commentary) he is poised to wreak disaster.
I have been playing the XBOX for nearly a month, and I am quite surprised by how pleasant an instrument it is. For the most part, I have been playing Halo--the greatest video game ever created. Don't get me wrong! Mirra 2, DOA3, and NFL Fever are all outstanding; but this game Halo has some extra added ooomph!
Anyway, I got to a point where the Hunter Covenants came along and started kicking my ass. I mean they were kicking my ass in a BIG way. And so, I explored various sources for hints and tips. What I found at gamefaqs.com was fortuitous, extraordinarily helpful, and very thorough. Even if you haven't played the game; even if you don't have an XBOX, you should still take a look at halo.txt. This thing was prepared by NeoGamer, who has clearly put in some effort and is willing to share his goods. Speaking of "putting in some effort and willing to share", you should definitely see this. 01.03.02 This morning was a good morning. I awoke promptly at 6:30 to the sounds of my automatic-ass coffee-bean-grinding coffee pot grinding up some fine Columbian roast. "Mmmmm!", I thought. Then I went to the window and gazed out upon a 4-inch layer of white, which was being fed by another 4-inches worth of steadily falling snow. The coffee, as it turns out, is fan-fucking-tastic. And the machine that automatically grinds and brews the coffee is sen-fucking-sational. To wit:
12.31.01
It's been a long, cold, lonely winter these last 10 days. Today is New Year's Eve Day, and I can already feel it all turning around. There will be no party this year, as Wild Turkey made an asshole out of me last year. I will, however, be cooking up little pieces of meat and alternately wrapping them in biscuit dough and warming them in delicious sauces. I intend to fill the flask again, and drink champagne at the end of the evening.
Matt's last regular season Sports Beat never materialized. Dave submitted nothing; Matt submitted nothing; even the idiot was too busy to make his idiotic picks. There is likely to be some playoff-type Sports Beat activity, but until then, feel free to browse through the season that was--the glory, the shame, etcetera.
I got a couple of interesting pieces of spam last week. The first told me about how aging can be reversed, the second advertised pills to increase your ejaculation 581%. Hey spammers, if you are reading this, I would like a pill that can reverse my ejaculation while increasing my aging by 581%! Get on it, and I may one day click the hyperlinks in your little barrage of emails.
Well, I can now hear the sound of the vacuum downstairs, which indicates that it is time for me to get off my lazy ass and get hoppin' in the bathroom / kitchen / grocery store. Happy Old Year = Happy New Year.
12.23.01
Greetings and Happy Holidays from the Cocksocket Institute. Two freakin' days before the big freakin' day, and I am freakin' out with all types of crazy freakin' Christmas joy. I got some running down my leg right now.
Traffic (praise be to the French) is up substantially over a comparable period a year ago. Visits and Downloads are up 1.3x from December 2000 (through 12/22). Our team of Cocksocket analysts has been busy crunching numbers and other things trying to get to the bottom of the surge in interest, which, they say, is not the result of any expanded marketing efforts on the part of Senior Cocksocket Management. The secret: superior quality at extraordinary prices!
On Matt's Sports Beat Front, everything has been utterly confused. The picks and results up through today have been certified by an independent body, and the results are, to the best of our knowledge, accurate. The overall situation looks dire for the idiot and difficult for Matt, as Dave appears to be making serious advances towards the 2002 Coveted Cocksocket Cup. Review the carnage in Matt's Sports Beat, and if anything looks or smells or feels amiss, please let management know. 12.11.01
Ladies and Gentlemen, I am off. I will be out of the cocksocket office conducting further Cocksocket Consumer research in the midwest. I am leaving this evening and am expected to return Wednesday, 12/19/2001--just in time for another Weekly Wednesday Update.
I will naturally be hooking up with Matt, Toby, and Tufu along the way. As for the Sports Beat, well, things are going to be a bit different this weekend. I will make certain to register the picks from Dave and Matt, and I will report them fairly and accurately (read: fairly accurately) upon my return.
In the meanwhile, sit back and click your ass off. Why not? The French have been doing it in droves. For your edifitainment, I have updated the (underused) "Features" section over there... No there... Just down a bit... That's it!
12.05.01
It is the first week of December, and all is right with the world. I flew to Chicago last weekend for routine reconnaisance, staying in a quaint little room in the Hampton Inn overlooking Six Flags. While most details of my mission must remain secret, I can say that I ate twice at Max and Erma's, twice at the surprisingly Chinese Ming's of Gurnee.
I saw a gallon bottle of Heineken at the Liquor store, but I did not buy it. Instead, I got a glorious 6-pack of Guinness draught, all of which I consumed in an evening filled with $12.00 movies, limited cable television options, and inventive ways of opening beers in the absence of a proper bottle opener. I tore open the first bottle in 4 minutes with keys and a pen--the brute force method that left Guinness on my pants leg. I got the second bottle opened in under 2 minutes using the dresser drawer, and spraying about 4 ounces of Guinness down the front of my sweatshirt. The third bottle posed a lesser challenge than the previous two--opened in half a minute on the bathroom door, with only a few splatters on my undershirt. Bottles 4-6 were opened and consumed in short succession using the nightstand, which, as it turned out, is just a big, fancy, wooden bottle opener. Further stains to the clothing never materialized
Note to observers: Cocksocket's following in the northern outskirts of the Windy City appears to be small, or ill-organized, or both.
The French are back with a vengence this month, accounting for more than 42% of the throughput--nearly 4 times the US Commercial traffic. This phenomenon (heavy frenchie-type traffic) has been observed before, around 6 or 7 months ago, an event that I marked with an eloquent, lyrical Frog Poem. In the spirit of consistency, and as a show for my appreciation for the "littlest men in Europe", I present another French masterpiece:
Les Plus petits Hommes En Europe
Je vous remercie des fromages rances
Je vous remercie des choses drôles
Vos aisselles sentent souvent plus fétides
Pas à la différence de me, Cocksocket,
Even as foreign interest in Cocksocket is emerging, domestic energies appear to be waning. Matt, if not sick, is working steadily on other projects, and Tufu is, well, I am not sure where. Wherever he is, though, he is certainly enmeshed in the minutae of doing what it is he is doing. Or thinking. Or feeling. None of this, of course, is of any particular import. The ongoing research I have been conducting here, last week in the Midwest, and even earlier in other environs, reveals much about our readers, not least the general satisfaction current among the Cocksocket mass. The holiday season is nearing full-tilt, and the urge to relax, to consume oneself in music, to partake too heavily of the new XBOX under the television--these urges are, well natural and should be indulged 11.28.01
I will be travelling tomorrow, setting out very early in the morning. I will not be back until mid-day Sunday, probably in time for kickoff. There are many things that must be accomplished by me tonight, and almost none of them are related to this web page.
However, a brief update is in order.
Thanksgiving happened, massive amounts of food were prepared, massive amounts of food were ingested, massive amounts of food were digested. There were a couple of food comas, the most severe arriving after lunch Saturday. That was the last meal I ate for 36 hours. Occassionally I swear off drinking after waking up with a nasty hangover. Sunday I swore off food.
The studio, or at least an operational shell thereof, is now assembled and active. After getting everything together, I immediately broke the international cease-music and began putting a little number together. I have listened to it several times now, and it definitely needs a few adjustments and a modest reworking, BUT the raw version is available if you should like to download it.
We are coming up on Week 12 of the Football Season, and Matt's goal of 70% is beginning to look more and more like an impossible thing. This development is welcome if you are into pay-per-view pleasure specials, which Matt and Loretta will broadcast if his picking percentage finishes below 70%. It should be noted, however, that Matt is soundly beating The Idiot (20 games back), and still in contention for the Coveted Cocksocket Cup, only 10 games behind Dave.
Anyway, follow the action in the latest edition of Matt's Sports Beat. Dave's picks, even if unpublished before tomorrow night's kickoff, are certifiable, timely, and will be available no later than Sunday.
Ciao
11.26.01
The studio is partially constructed, all the way live, and I have been tinkering with a new song. It has been eight months, several trials, three tribulations and 1 visit from Matt since I have been able to "lay down the shiz(nit)". Anyway, the track is in rough form, but I am posting it now in an effort to solicit feedback from you, the young and sexy cocksocket masses. Click here to get the first incarnation.
11.21.01
The menu is finalized. Let the shopping commence, and then give way to the eating. Whoopity Doo!
11.20.01
It is the Tuesday before the Thursday of the Turkey, and my mouth is already watering (that's a polite way of saying I have slobber on my t-shirt). In another sense this is Friday--Friday insofar as I went in to work today, but will not tomorrow. Tomorrow I will be fulfilling the grocery list that I will create tonight to satisfy all my hedonistic Thanksgiving Eating Needs. Mmmmmm-mmmmm.
Matt's Sports Beat is already updated! While nobody seems too concerned about The Idiot, I believe his day is coming. Bear in mind that The Idiot's picks are randomly generated. The fact, therefore, that The Idiot's best picking week was a paltry 8-6 (week 8) defies the randomly distributed odds. Mrs. Dave did all the picking last week, and she put Dave and Matt neck and neck. According to my calculations, Dave is the leading contender for the 2002 Cocksocket Cup, with Matt 6.7 games behind, and The Idiot 16 games back. Review the fun in the latest edition.
That's all for now, I think. Make sure you check out the whole site to get a grasp of the little changes that have been taking place. And, as always, send feedback.
11.15.01
All development is coming along swimmingly; "swimmingly" is something that the British say when they mean "well". There was trouble at first, but after Cocksocket was moved over to a new server, everything fell into place. Here is a rundown of the main changes:
11.08.01
There is a new take on Matt's Sports Beat now located at the bottom of this page. Now, for Cocksocket fans on the go--you busy people with too little time to warrant the extra clicks it would take to check on the picks of Matt, Dave, and The Idiot--Cocksocket proudly introduces MATT'S COMPACT SPORTS BEAT. I would say more about it, but I know how precious your time is.
11.07.01
The diggity dag gum monitor broke the other night. When I restarted the computer, the diggity dag gum thing came on and then the picture did this freaky littly wiggle and a sort of pixelated swan dive into blackness. It all ended with a single point of light in the center of the screen. Farewell, 17" black penis monitor. Hello 15" creamy white IBM penis monitor relic. The upside: better resolution.
For the Cocksocket Consumer (you) the switch over to cocksocket.org has been awfully transparent. For a knuckle-head bitch (me), however, things are not so smooth. I am asyet unable to set up email accounts, establish subdomains, or access traffic logs. When I make conquest of this multitude of problems, you will be the first to know (or will you?)
Matt's Sports Beat. It is here; it is queer; it is running low on beer. Dave is travelling this week, so getting his picks in may be more difficult than usual. For you, the overworked and underpaid Cocksocket Consumer, however, this should go unnoticed. I realize that the integrity of Matt's Sports Beat, and Cocksocket in general, is on the line, but isn't that the case every week? Yes it is, thank you very much. You, my friend are welcome--and good-looking.
I ran across some old mixdowns of early Cocksocket last weekend. There is some classic shit yet to come, and once the studio is reassembled, I will get some of the old and unheard gems out to you, the smelly and barbituarious Cocksocket Consumer.
Also, don't get stuck on this diggity dag gum home page! Make sure to check out some of the other goodies we offer here: The Messageboard, The Music, The Amazing Crap, KING TUFU, etc. Speaking of Tufututoriation, there seems to have been a happening in one dimly lit corner of The Thing: KLOPTOWN RISING
11.03.01
This week has been long and difficult, ending in disaster and stool. I delayed the Weekly Wednesday Update because I needed some extra "me" time--you know, a bubble bath, soft jazz, buttplug, the whole bit. However, when I went to update everything on Thursday, there was nothing to update. The website, and all of this fantastic, insightful content, was inaccessible. Even today, despite reports that the masses are indeed connecting with the website, I am unable to get to the front page.
The site down time has been the catalyst for signing up with a different host and registering the contentious and exciting domain name cocksocket.org. I do not know how long it will take to make the necessary changes, but I am hopeful that everything will happen seamlessly. In the meanwhile, my principal concern is that netrunner.cx will be up and running before the first kickoff tomorrow. We don't want anybody suspecting foul play in Matt's Sports Beat.
Speaking of Matt's Sports Beat, you really should go check out the latest edition. Matt and Dave have identical picks for 13 games, differing only on the Cleveland VS. Chicago game. The idiot, on the other hand, differs from Matt AND Dave on 9 games. This could be the week that the idiot finally overtakes all the competition. Stay tuned.
King Tufu dropped a sackful of goodies last week, from where we know not. His section will be updated presently, and with great fanfare. Be sure to check out the newest links, and if you have any information about his current whereabouts, let us know. To help with your search, here is an older picture of King Tufu.
10.23.01
Listen up, fools. This week's "Weekly Wednesday Update" is coming on Tuesday night. It's a notable occurance, indicating my newfound love for being proactive, on-the-ball, and a real go-getter. I have also deemed it a wise move to switch up my typical routines to avoid slipping into that wicked, profound rut occupied by The Man and other Evil-Doers. Also, Matt weighed in ahead of time this week.
Sports Beat news includes 1 very sucky performance from Matt, 1 very sucky performance from Dave, and 1 very average, but comparatively fantastic performance from The Idiot. The Idiot, you see, is within striking distance of defeating the competition, making the competition sniff it, and taking the coveted 2002 Cocksocket Cup. Read all about the Idiot's randomly generated prowess in the latest edition of Matt's Sports Beat.
The Message Board has been updated--cut up into smaller morsels of mouth-poop. The response has been overwhelmingly positive. Go look at it, and then leave some mouth-poop of your very own.
Cocksocket is now on rockband.com! Whoopity-doo! I don't know what this site is about our anything but it must have a finger firmly on the pulse of America's renegade overland music scene. Have I mentioned whoopity-doo? Go look at it.
God bless google's images directory. It's fun to go there and type in stuff like doo-doo:
 Also, you can type in "Cocksocket" to see brilliant artwork. 10.17.01
Matt came out like a firebrand last weekend and DESTROYED the competition (Dave and the Idiot). His miraculous 12-2 included a bet on the Colts to whoop Oakland. After this past weekend's action, Matt has drawn alongside Dave, in a challenge for the 2002 Cocksocket Cup (the Idiot is nowhere to be seen). Read all the gloating, observe all the new picks, and pick up a coupon that entitles you to touch Matt himself--all this and more in the latest Sports Beat.
King Tufu has dropped in another wing-dinger of a Hot Link. Check it out here. Tufu claims to have located the English version, the existence of which cannot be independently verified. Tufu, however, argues strenuously that it does exist, and strengthens his case by quoting from said English version of said Spanish Hot Link:.
I have been toying with the blogger website, which offers a pretty simple and intuitive means of publishing whatever crap you happen to have in your head at whatever particular time you happen to be doing whatever it is that you happen to be doing. You can customize the look of your Weblog to a great degree, and (best of all) you can immediately publish to your FTP server. This means that I can basically spread mental diarrhea all over. Any place. Any time. And I will be keeping it here.
There have been many, many Black and Tans consumed here over the last couple of weeks. I would like to give a shout out to Dave's dad and Dave's dad's friend Ken for providing the Guinness spoon, without which each Black and Tan would be better described as a "Black" or a "Grey". I am updating the Amazing Crap page to include a fascinating and disturbing article (lifted from Epicurious.com) that describes one chuckle-head's journey toward the perfect BnT.
Finally, the Monkey even chimed in with a quaint, if terse message.
10.10.01
The beer I am drinking is called Shiner Bock, and it is the last of the beers that live here. It has cowered in fear, hiding in a remote part of the refrigerator for five straight days. It is not out of anger, not from fear or envy that I have chosen to crack this beer open and put it down. I am not a jealous man. Quite the contrary, it is my absolute amazement and wonder at its majesty that drives me to demonstrate to myself, 6-pack after tasty 6-pack, the fantastic yet elusive essense that exists in every bottle.
And there are other elements at work which delight my mind so. There has, for example, been a refreshment in the house of Tufu. And this update is especially welcome when one considers the number and difficulty of the tasks that King Tufu must perfect in a day. Word up, King Tufu. Your shit is tight.
In addition, Matt has weighed in yet again with an update of the Sports Beat. There was marked improvement in Matt's picking performance last week, 7 points behind Dave and 7 points ahead of The Idiot. However, Matt's cumulative picking percentage is hovering just above the half-way mark. Recall the Week 1 rhetoric:
Fire up the Real Player, mama, this ought to be worth watching.
10.03.01
Benvenuto Ottobre! Benvenuto Mercoledi! Sono Io, Il Duce. There are many extra things hanging from the walls of this house now. Many pictures, paintings, knick-knacks, paddy-whacks. There are also many plants here, but they have been removed to the corners of the rooms and no longer occupy the center spaces.
On the Sports Beat front: Dave continues whupping ass. Sources close to the publication, however, maintain that "they don't call it Matt's Sports Beat for nothing. Bitch. " Learn all about that, and the freshest picks, in the latest installment.
09.27.01
Check out the updated version of Matt's Sports Beat. Dave's picks will appear there shortly. Also, I understand that last weekend's festivities carried on in my absence at the airport. Matt's account is being held hostage with the other Amazing Crap. Finally, this has something to do with the KLOP and the TUFU clan. See you in Hell.
09.26.01
I am pleased as puke to report the overwhelming success of the site re-launch, re-balance, and re-rotation. So many developments have developed that is hard to know where to begin relating them...
Matt arrived with much fanfare last Friday afternoon. The pomp and circumstance was suffocating to evil-doers and nourishing to the righteous among us. He arrived intoxicated and endured the journey to CSHQ with aplomb.
Friday night, we got together with Dave and talked over the State of the Sports Beat. We decided to pit Matt's football picking skills not only against his own predictions, but also against the predictions of Dave, and against a set of randomly generated picks (the so-called "idiot picks"). The idea is that we tally the results week by week and see who kicks, and who licks, ass. All of this was conceived, of course, with an eye toward humiliating Matt, but in the end these changes will only benefit you, prized element of the Cocksocket Masses. See the results in the latest incarnation of Matt's Sports Beat.
We also heard from the Tufu Liberation Front, which has weighed in with a new link and a missive On Recent and Future Events. In one touching passage, King "Puffster Johanne" Tufu couches his coming plight in language that hits so very close to home:
In short, the new site is mostly deployed as we embark on the second year of these Experiments In Organica, the fourth year of the Online Cocksocket Experience, and the Eleventh year of the Cocksocket itself. Please bear with us, and try not to irritate yourself, as we progress.
09.19.01
The Wednesday Update is upon us, and the Cocksocket administration is conspicuously tight-lipped on the new, mind-boggling page designs that will make you spill your urine Saturday evening.
Matt has confirmed his flight plans. He will fly commercially to an undisclosed location very far away, whence I will bear him off to the Spider Pad. The details are still somewhat fuzzy, but sources close to the plans say that beer "will be involved". All of our other information has been gleaned from an intercepted email from Matt herself
Obviously we wait eagerly for the results. Hats off to Daredevil Matt for electing to fly, terrorist attack potential notwithstanding.
Also, check the latest Sports Beat, for the latest picks. And when you are done with that, may I recommend some news?
09.13.01
It is Thursday evening. Time for Cocksocket's weekly Wednesday update. First, the studio. No progress there. Everything's still in boxes and tubs, quietly whispering about the future to come, and trading stories about the glory that once was The Brick.
Second, Matt's Sports Beat. Last week was a heartbreaker. After hitting 60% during the 1:00 O'Clock round, Matt proceeded to miss every pick thereafter. Ouch! On a different note, the NFL has, for some strange reason, decided to cancel all football games this weekend. It seems odd, but here is what I believe to be the most likely line of reasoning behind the decision to cancel: the NFL has grown suspicious, even envious of Matt and Cocksocket. Suspicious of the picks. Envious of the riches.
Third, a tidbit. As I was browsing through some obscure web pages last night, I came across this curious little story. Basically it talks about how some planes flew into the Twin Towers of the World Trade Center. It seems a little strange to me, but if there is any interest out there, then Cocksocket is more than happy to break this story to the Beloved Masses.
Fourth, I am done being sick. I was sick last week and now I am done with that. Finally drinking beer again after 6 days (it seems like an eternity).
Fifth, procrastination. The new, improved, better-for-you version of cocksocket.netrunner.cx is still set to launch 11:59 p.m., Saturday, 22 September, In The Year Of Our Lord, 2001.
09.08.01
I have been in contact with the Corsican Pimp, who is tussling with some dainty little lifestyle issues. There are many things that I have been informed of--many challenging developments. For example, the he relates The Unnatural Consequence Of The Vodka And The Croissant:
Football season officially begins tomorrow at 1:00. Matt has crisply laid out his goals for the coming months, and he has picked his winners. Get the lowdown at the latest installment of Matt's Sports Beat.
I awoke this morning with a sore throat. It feels all raw and bloody. So I just napped all day, and I watched a lot of TV. I saw that movie Entrapment--the one with Catherine Zeta-Jones's ass, and I must say that is was much better than I thought it was going to be (the movie, not the ass, which was just as good as I thought is would be).
09.03.01
Shibby. Ti Klanete Malakas; Well, it was a nice little labor day. An intimate affair with the napping and the television and the little hot dogs. Actually, these hot dogs were none too little, and they confused me more than usual, if you know what I mean. I mean sexually. Matt's Sports Beat has been initiated for the 2001 - 2002 Matt's Sports Year. Check it out to freshen your perspective on summer sports fun. When excessive yaw is detected the brakes are automatically applied in the opposite corner to correct the situation. Some people are worried that this takes the skill out of driving. One of the Speedvision announcers said it best "The traction control does not create new traction, it merely maximizes the traction that is available." Loretta will be physically present for the site relaunch at the end of this month: I am planning to be at CSHQ Sept. 21 around 5 pm. I will be there for the new site design which means there should be much hoopla and dancing. We are going to overhaul many aspects of this environment, and the changes will go into effect precisely at 12:00 a.m., Sunday 23 September, 2001--unless of course the hoopla and dancing become distended to a point where they must be called "obscene" and "a problem for the fuzz". As a promotion for the site's new look, cocksocket is sponsoring a sweepstakes for our fans. To enter Cocksocket's official 2001 "Did I win?" sweepstakes, simply send an email to cocksocket@mediaone.net. The winner will receive an all-expenses paid 1 week adventure in the company of King Tufu to Gnaw Bone, IN. The winner will chosen by an elaborate algorithm, concocted and delivered by Captain Formaldehyde. All entries must be received before 11:59, Saturday 22 September, 2001. The winner will be notified on or about 12:00 Noon, Sunday 6 October, 2001. 08.28.01 The last 6 weeks have been eventful. There was the closing, the anniversary, the moving, the birthday, the decorating, the initial home repairs, and the thin promise of sustained home repairs in the future. There were endless days, spent ferreting out productivity for a paycheck. Endless days that seemed to thumb their noses to the notion of a 40-hour workweek. Tiring, hollow days that may as well have thumbed their asses for the sake of keeping the cheeks from falling asleep. Not to complain, though, because complaints tend to be irritating. And you, my friend, have no need for trifling irritation. All things considered, July was a steller month for Cocksocket & Organica. Traffic was at an all time high. The uptick in eyeballs was due mainly to a brilliant poem and a clever indictment of the French, whom I love dearly. It is ironic that even as the amazing crap dried up, the downloads grew moister and jucier still. And so I am currently attempting to renew my lease on this little spot. And this email address no longer exists. Music.com has relinquished the burden of maintaining email servers and free accounts to music hacks like myself. In the meanwhile, please direct all comment and feedback to this account, which will be a suitable surrogate until I settle on another appropriate place to harbor the ill will of the Cocksocket Observers. And I grow weary of the site design. And although I have a particular desire to change the way this place looks, I am neverthless something of an HTML Jackass. The sort of Jackass who is otherwise occupied by AT&T's Platinum Digital Cable package, work, basic home repair, and beer. Consider this a simple warning that the changes will be coming piecemeal, and slowly, and improperly configured, until that time when the Cocksocket chaos has been once created and once destroyed. And there should be some more Sports Beating. With opening day not 2 weeks off, Loretta / Matt must certainly have some incisive and contentious observations on God's Own Game. And much progress has been made on the studio in the new local. It will be in the office inside of the closet and also inside of the computer. I do not mean to suggest that the studio is assembled or operational yet. I am just saying that it is going quick and smooth like poop. And so am I. 07.19.01 It has come to our attention here at Tufu Inc. that Mr. Socket has failed to promptly report the pointless coup, which took place at the Summer Palace of Peoga this past Saturday morning, the 14th of July. Some baloney about buying a house or something. The revolution will not be televised Mr. Socket. Therefore you have an entire colony of quasi-fictional multi-dimensional beings that are depending on you to make their pathetic and fragile "reality" have some substance. For God's sake man, we buy houses here every damn day! We have to. Tufu's are the universal record holders in wearing out a welcome. Meanwhile the standoff continues. It seems that some of the more rowdy and less intelligent element of our little organization decided they would celebrate the anniversary of "the Great Cat Massacre of July 13th"® by getting stoked on steroids and tequila. These are not substances which quasi-fictional multi-dimensional beings should be fooling around with under any circumstances, and especially in conjunction with such a somber occasion. The tension was especially high this year because it marked the first passing of the anniversary since the perpetrator of the atrocities, Tugs the dog, went to meet his maker in a glorious hail of bullets while on a routine mission to strew the neighbors garbage across their lawn. Some people have a skewed sense of "order in the universe." Futu loved that dog, and he forgave him for "the Great Cat Massacre of July 13th"®. But when half of your molecules are spread among the Klingleroor nebulae and the other half are hammered on tequila and steroids, the last thing you want to do is get all emotional about a bunch of deceased house pets. Futu is not a political animal. He has in fact never had what you would properly define as a thought in his head (such as it is and what little dab there is of it). Basically if you get a cup of coffee into him once a day you might be able to get a coherent sentence out of him. That's why he is the lyricist for the Droidbangers. A coup is the last thing any of us expected least of all Futu Ufutu (no relation). As soon as the cable guy showed up Futu and his cronies made for the Super 8 like the bandits that they are, and haven't been heard from since. Meanwhile Tufu has disappeared on a cross-country RV Park tour. He made good on his promise to surf free porn sights and to "fulfill the duties of his administration" with his free hand (at least that's what he told me. Last we heard he was at the Yogi Bear Jellystone Park near Cherokee, North Carolina. Dr R came into the studio and listened to some of the new Droidbangers stuff. He laid down a few guitar tracks and left. He said he wanted to stay true to the Droidbangers' philosophy "if it takes more than ten minutes, forget it". So it has gotten awfully quiet around here the last few days. After all the excitement of this past weekend it seems like a good time to call it a night since the portion of the earth upon which I am sitting happens to be in the shadow of the portion of the earth that is facing the sun. Hopefully in the future important news like the coup at the Summer Palace of Peoga won't take a back seat to such piddling concerns such as buying a house. In other words…congratulations on your new residential arrangement, from all of us here at Club Tufu.
Reverently,
07.13.01 It has come to my attention that the French love me. There are lots of things that Frenchy-type people like--Cigarettes, strong black coffee, and cocksocket not least among them. While it is considered uncouth to call a Frenchman "Froggie", it is generally acceptable (some would say outstanding) to refer to the entire French population as "Frogs". So anyway the Frogs have been coming in droves to see what we offer here. So far this month, the baiseurs have accounted for 3.5% of the hits, 3.6% of the file downloads, 4% of the bandwith, and almost 190% of the STINKY FRENCH CHEESE. Let's all take a moment and doff our berets in respect for the "littlest men in Europe". Je suis perdant I wrote that for the Frogs because during their 16 hours of monthly online activity, visiting 17 unique sites, they spend 24 minutes and 49 seconds. I am proud to say that cocksocket has to date claimed over 82% of all French web traffic.
Thank you and goodnight
07.03.01 Okay. It's been more than a month of stale content and commentary. That's the way of things, and it is alright. Cocksocket has nevertheless been productive in many, shall we say, peripheral ways. I've been working on a couple of new sound products. One which includes a sample from The Coach, the other is based on a phrase from The King. Not King Tufu. I have been listening to Air, and Autechre, and Oval, and this killer little record called At Home With The Groovebox. I have watched a crap load of movies--but none of them DIVX, who has threatened to cancel my account unless I submit a valid credit card. But, as Toby pointed out, this should keep the bastards off my ass Loretta has been a quiet little girl ever since s/he went to Florida. But like she said before, this place needs to be reworked & recast. We are coming up on 9 months of delusion, and I think we can just scrap it and begin again. We will, you know, leverage the crap we already have, and move on from (t)here. Loretta and Tufu have been masterless contributors, but there is always room for more. If you have anything to add, just send it along--especially you Lisa, and you Toby, and you Alex, and you Konstantinos, and you Jeff, and you too Papa.
Understand that Cocksocket is buying a house, and buying a house is a tricky, time-consuming, freaky thing. The loan people will give me the loan money on July 20, and we will be all in before July is over. N.B.: the pickin's here are bound to be slim before August.
06.30.01 I played through the fourth round in the sound area at k1010 from the King's links. I think that makes me the master sound recognizer, but the throne is not a glorious one. There will be those that think they are the true rulers of sound recognition. I scoff at them as follows; "SCOFF!". I am in the midst of gorillas and they all want a piece of the pie. Although the gorillas are only in a mist, I am wearing my rubbers day and night. I posted my resume, or lack there of, on Dice.com. I am seeking a webmaster position. It could pan out, if all qualified applicants met with an untimely demise or a rabid jellyfish. I am hatching a plan for a global assault on the health and well-being of these so called "masters". I hatch it through deep warming of the eggs and a steady diet of Double-Stuff Oreo's and aged Gummibears. Never before has the world seen an antelope with twelve feet. I have seen such a beast. It told me to wear white during the seasons in which white is frowned upon. The cause of my rash is friction. Friction between elbow and anus. This mixture has evidently proven to be rash causing in lab test and I have proven that hypothesis to be true in everyday life as well. So this poses the following question in your mind, "Does the rash afflict the elbow or the anus?". This query is similar to that of the proverbial "How many licks does it take...?" question. The outcome is quite similar in that my rash also involves a stick and a hard candy shell. A teacher, in a school, somewhere on this spongy sphere we call XJ19, ran an experiment in class to answer the aforementioned question. The answers varied but the outcome suggest that it takes about 300 licks to enter that forbidden core of sugar and nonsense.
It seems I have spoken out of turn. Myself and all those contained within my
largest of toes, are without fault. This allows me to be the only one to
cast a stone into the crowd of humanity and scream, "Syphilis will
undoubtedly afflict all of you! Go now and let the puss fall onto your
enemies. Make your discharges dribble into his cereal milk. But always
remember, your enemy also has Syphilis and may retaliate with an increased
attack forcing you to take pleasure from his discharge against your
wishes.".
06.17.01 Utterly better babble is all a quasi-fictional multi-dimensional being can ask for. Is it really so much to ask? Frankly the legal implications of this particular set of illusions is a bit overwhelming. The monkey has flown up someone's butt in the cybersuck and we can't seem to get him unstuck. Is there really any reason to try? The dusk of our inconsequential muttering is upon us and the monkey-butt laxatives fail to expunge the offending primates of their unholy participation in the attempted usurping of the Ufutus. Do I really need say any more? I think not.
Tufu Ufutu™
06.12.01 I am watching this crappy AFI "top 100 thrilling movie" thing. Sort of a load of shit. They have these actors, directors, daughters of directors, and crack freaks giving commentary in between the movie clips, and frankly I am sick of it. Lucy Liu was just on talking about Silence of the Lambs. I swear to god she was reading from a card. I haven't seen Charlie's angels, but I'm guessing that it sucks balls. Seriously, all she had to do was act interested. Lately I have been feeling a certain measure of shame for the sporadic updates to this page. You know, when I started this thing I promised crazy things like "Amazing Crap", and "Updates almost twice a week", and "Fresh Organica". But whatever. The only people missing out are Loretta and the Canadian dude who has stolen Loretta's #2 spot, and they are good people. The Exorcist is the #3 film on AFI's list. King Tufu has checked in, and Project DIVX has been updated. Jaws is coming at #2. I remember the "TV" version that I watched as a kid. Puritanical times, those were. I am not afraid of a shark. I say "bring it on".
Psycho has clearly taken the prize. AFI is therefore sensible. Smell my bag.
06.02.01 I am nearly a believer. I have rated more than 300 films on netflix, and the recommendations that netflix has returned based on my ratings seem to be pretty good: Eyes Wide Shut
I have already seen The Shining and Summer Of Sam; they were both pretty damn excellent. I have had Pi recommended to me by many friends. The Filthy Critic is pretty hot on Magnolia, and (come on) The Three Stooges have to be a slam dunk, particulaly when the film is subtiled "Sing A Song Of Six Pants". Obviously genius. So, ladies and gentlemen, go there and sign up and rate some shit and get what they tell you to get. It's not bad. It's customized. The moon looks close to full tonight.
05.29.01
I got nothin'. I've been working, buying a house, selling a house, throwing wicked drunken parties, and watching a crap load of movies. It's not like I'm complaining, though. It could be worse. So I like to think of it as a vacation. It is all peripherally, though not materially, creative. I have been updating Tufu and Project DIVX. If anybody's got any good links, or mp3 bands, or quotes, or commentary, or anything else that used to make this such a sensational site, well then, let me know. I'll post it unless it sucks. Failing that, I will continue to hibernate in this hedonistical mystical fog of delight, back in june.
05.18.01 Well, it is Friday and I have let nearly a week pass without watching another DIVX. I got sick, but I didn't stay home from work--which would have been the best strategy for getting through all these damn movies. Who doesn't share Loretta's frustration?
At least her heart is in the right place--in her balls!
I think this weekend is going to be crammed full of shit like the cooking out & general drinking of the beer tonight. The movie tomorrow. The trip to the appliance store on Sunday. Not to mention the crazy bavarian sausage party that is happening tomorrow (did I dream that up? I seem to remember that the hosts have been brewing beer for this special occasion. Can that be?). In addition, I have 3 goddam NETFLIX sitting on the (DIVX-enhanced) DVD player. Alas! What will become of Project DIVX? I don't know. A couple of good days watching 5 or 6 crappy films and I'm right back in it.
05.12.01
Project DIVX is underway. I'll be watching movies and drinking Belgian Ale if you need me.
05.10.01 I just watched this film called "Shadow Hours" or some shit. It was alright. It had the Noxema Girl in it. And this guy called Balthazar. Balthazar Getty. If that is a stage name, then I say "more power to your nads, B'zar". The dude had the letters B-Z-A-R tatooed on his knuckles like O-Z-Z-Y. His character in the movie was called Mike, but you see, Mike had B-Z-A-R tattooed on his knuckles. It was something of a discontinuity, but hey! I say chalk up extra points to this Balthazar guy for 1) picking a crazy stage name like Balthazar and 2) carving it into his hand, even when he knows that, as an actor, he is most unlikely to be playing the role of a man who is named Balthazar. Anyway the movie was a little bit silly. Kind of raw and raunchy, but also kind of smelly and insipid. To wit: the flash intro. Further to wit, copy from the website: What starts as a fairly innocent journey into the seedier side of the city's nightclubs turns into a swift descent into sinful pleasure, decay and debauchery. Michael is pulled in further and further by Stuart who challenges him: "You have to go all the way down or you'll never finish it!" Actually, now that I've had a chance to look through the website, I am kind of embarassed for having watched the movie in the first place. I mean, why do you have to define "media" for me? media \'mE-dE-a\ n a medium of cultivation, conveyance, or expression
Yeah, thanks. You know, media is just the plural form of medium. What is this? Balderdash? And then there's the "links" page, with all the "edgy" links to "edgy places". The first two links are to the EFF and the ACLU. Who are you kidding with this shit? But then again none of us lives in a glass house, so we shouldn't be shooting the first BB or anything like that.
05.07.01 I can't sleep. Again with this crap. It is late on a Sunday night. It is early Monday morning and I am once again trying to get some sleep. Nothing doing. Beer is really all I've got to fight off this pesky alertness. Five hours for a nap is too long, and 4 hours of sleep on Saturday night is too short, and 7 days in a week is one too many or one too few. Here's some of the choice Cocksocket search terms for May. Think of it as a microcosmical version of the eternally delightful, savagely voyeuristic, unfiltered metaspy.
Here is the last review for Chocolate Syrup Panty Hose. This song has had a lengthy garageband run, and has finished with a ranking of 8,830:
So anyway, that's it. Freakin' good night.
05.05.01 I don't know what the fuck. I have spent a lot of time tonight watching disc 2 of the Fight Club set. You know, that is one kick ass film, and it is good to see all the special effects, and commercials, and alternate camera angles and everything. But you have to draw the line somewhere--like around the time you find yourself half naked in the dark listening to some ancient, John-Wayne sound-alike, tired-ass stunt man talking about how he filmed the car crash. Try to stop yourself before you get to that point, because (frankly) you don't need the embarassment or endless teasing. I'm still a little bit irked at my drunk self for remixing the horse song in such sucky fashion. That version on iuma and mp3 is not what I was shooting for. Now when I hear it I just think, "oh, that sounds artsy", so I leave it in place, but if you want the version I've currently got in the car, then come and get it. Cocksocket has had some insightful reviews from the Garageband website lately. Here are some of the comments that have been rolling in from the great unwashed. The song in question is Chocolate Syrup Panty Hose.
Personally, I like the idea of being "way too experimental", and I'm not displeased when producing "crapity craap-crap shit", but I do take offense at the idea that I am the only person that can know my vision. You can know my vision too, and don't be scared off by the challenge. Think of it as an immunity challenge. Speaking of immunity challenges, that show about the survivor in Australia was Crapity craap crap shit--particularly because of that loser in the Helicopter with the votes and the loose nutsack. I started a new song last weekend when I was, well, really drunk. So far it is about nutsackz, watches, crotches, and ancient needle point. That's only 1 verse! I basically stole some drums (ELO say: "Don't Bring Me Down") and made up lyrics on the fly. That will be my basic modus operandi as I try to finish it up in the next couple of weeks. I hereby avow not to work on this song unless I am too drunk to be working on the song. Let's just call it an "experiment" or whatever.
Everything has slowed down around everywhere. Everybody is still trying to sell all the houses, but everything is taken and taking too long--with everybody searching at once for a house in which everybody can party/boogie all night long.
04.24.01 Cocksocket is considering some layout changes to this site, and in the true democratic spirit of the rogue chicken, we are seeking advice from you, the fanatical masses of Cocksocketeers. If there is something that sucks here, or something that is useless, or missing, or essential, let us know. We will take much into consideration, and slowly do things that matter most to the public (or to the public's privates). Loretta, for example, has already instituted the messageboard, voted against it, and then voted it back in. Her keen mind has also conceived and nearly perfected the forthcoming "Ask The Experts" thing. Now is your chance to unite and enhance in a single voice those shortcomings that piss you off most. It was raining today, and when I walked outside, I smelled something akin to body odor. I stopped and sniffed my pits--nothing there but some sweet smelling Mitchum. There was an earthy rain-inspired smell all around me. Sort of like Mother Nature after a championship Volley Ball game. Sweaty like a Mexican brow. Anyway it was weird. I remixed the original version of Some Days You Are The Horse, and in a fit of drunken stupor, uploaded a different version to iuma and mp3. So, you can get the high-quality shit here. And the fruits of my beer's labour here or here. Do listen to it, and feel free freely to provide free-spirited freedback. I heard from Alex yesterday. I assume that he is pretty much just sitting around and thinking up things to do. And then doing them. I haven't been able yet to make it unmistakeably clear that the commentary section here was developed to be his own platform (read: high horse) for proselytization.
I don't remember too well either, but I think he may be referring to this. Whatever. The Pacers are playing in a few minutes, and I don't want to miss the tip-off.
04.18.01 I've decided on a couple of things about the new 'horse' song. First, I am not going to re-record the vocals as I originally thought. There is just something about a first take that can never be replicated--not that the vocals were recorded in a single session, but whatever, sniff it. I have a copy of the song in the car, and by this point I have listened to it so many times that I ultimately confounded my initial, disinterested view. This is something that has historically plagued the Cocksocket. It is the kind of rationalizing that sometimes forces the Cocksocket's work into a pigeon hole called 'Unfinished', or 'Low Fidelity', or something. Not that I feel qualified to speak intelligently on any of this, but I have convinced myself that my decision represents an intentional artistic angle. And so, ladies and gentlemen of the jury, the case is closed. I downloaded a 30-day trial version of flash, with which I hope to make a little 'Horse' video for the new number. I only have 25 days left, and I have zero familiarity with this program, so I expect the finished product to be raw & edgy (read: low fidelity & unfinished). If there are any flashmasters among you, feel free to download the song and cook up a nice piece of video pie.
That's really it in the world of Cocksocket. Still trying to sell a house. And buy a house. I've been enjoying the hell out of Netflix. Drinking beer again. Good beer. Reading a little bit. Cocksocket Recommends: Man On The Moon, The Original Kings Of Comedy, Wonder Boys, Me Myself & I, Fast Food Nation, Grolsch, metafilter. Cocksocket Recommends against: Me Myself & Irene, and 1998 Talus Cabernet Sauvignon:
Well, Cheers then. Drink one for Bluey, our recently deceased and freshly buried blue parakeet. I know you never met Blue (and he talked a mean game), but go ahead and tip one for a 19-year-old bird once in a while.
04.13.01
Here's my vacation summation & recommendation for Nags Head, NC. First, there are many reasons to visit Nags Head. You can sun yourself, or go parasailing, or hike up the sand dunes, or rub a pickle on your naked asscrack--the latter activity I do not recommend anyone practice while carrying on a conversation with a stranger in line at the Food Lion. Do what you will, but cocksocket strongly recommends playing a round of golf at the Nags Head Golf Links. Take lunch at the turn, in case the beer cart girl doesn't show. Stay in the Outer Banks at least 4 days, sleep at least 50 hours, and eat at Kelly's at least once. When you emerge from a trip of this sort, you will be smart again. You will also be younger and more attractive than you were before you left. While I was away, I stopped by Stepbrother Matt's place to check on Stephanie, and the boys. The youngest, "Big I", is about a month old now. Anyway, Matt offered me an ice cold Coors Light, and I couldn't refuse. I broke Lent for a taste of the silver bullet (Loretta would be proud). The Karma surrounding that decision can't be sugar coated. Tonight I'm drinking a nice California Cabernet, 1998 Liberty School. This one set me back about 15 bucks, and I let it breathe for an hour before imbibing. The flavor is blank with a high, piercing tone that runs up the mouth like thin layer of bread. This deep and narrow wine is very dry and pointy. It's like a bullet really--the kind of bullet I can recommend. Four bottles on the five-bottle scale.
The Cocksocket messageboard is in jeopardy. Even apart from the fact that it currently consists only of a ridiculous exchange between Loretta and myself, the messageboard may be doomed. We strive to offer interactivity here, but are seldom taken up on any meaningful activity. Case in point: the first new Cocksocket song of the last year is up for criticism, comment, charity, whatever. Yet precious few are downloading this rudimentary advance version. This, people, is interactivity waiting to happen. I am open to incorporating your suggestions into this song's development. In addition, I can provide raw tracks for remixing. I will even touch my own nuts, turn my head, and cough--so to speak. But only if you are interested. At the very least, drop us a line.
04.05.01 Final results from the Men's 2001 NCAA Basketball tournament are in. Check here to find out how cocksocket got cocksocket's ass whooped up on. I got a letter from Loretta...the other day. I opened and read it, it said s/he was a sucker:
In case you didn't notice, Loretta's attitude has become harsh and somewhat bitter. S/he has entered the second stage of acute dystopia, as is made evident in the subsequent missive:
The "fucking thing" to which Loretta refers, is the cocksocket message board, where you, the loyal sockethead, can leave whatever comments come to you. You know, when you are on the stool, or in the stool, or under the stool. Cocksocket has mirrored this site at a little place we like to call metababy. Totally interactive type thing, reminiscent of sketchzilla. Dudes keep changing the site around over there. Usually it's pretty weak shit they throw up, but I did find this one pretty amusing:
Well said, my friend! I myself would like to put something a little more inspired up there, but whatever. It's not like I'm bleeding time up in this mug. I spend a lot of hours at work, you know, spreading precious brainsauce all over the computer keyboard, and pretending like I'm not pretending to pretend. Don't shed a tear for me though. I'm going to the beach this weekend, and I'm staying for some extra days. The newest song is still in the works. It's all sketched out, and ready for your smelly creative juices or aromas. Take a listen and send your thoughts. Title: Some Days You Are The Horse I am drinking this wine called Rabbit Ridge. It is a Cabernet from 1999 and I paid 11 bucks for the bottle. It has a high rubbery nose with leathery unupholstered impact flavor, and a soothing chemical finish. It rates 2 bottles on my 5 bottle scale. That means that, while it is not totally sucky, it is south of average.
The cocksocket will resume normal duties again next week. Bake a cake; see you at the lake.
03.29.01 I have a cold, I can't sleep, and there is a delightful gin and tonic in front of me right now. The cold, however, is preventing me from actually being able to taste the drink. Awwww Yeah--it Hurts So Good. Speaking of "Hurts so good!", what the hell is this? Let me know if you ever figure it out. The new song, "Some Days You Are The Horse", is unfolding crisply. This weekend, I will post my progress and solicit you, the most precious element of the cocksocket fanbase, to give some development input. I'll put the song up as is, and I will continue working on it, but if you have any ideas about how it should sound--well, you can make your voice heard. As a matter of fact, you can even download an advanced preliminary copy of the first pass at a rough draft, if it tickles your fancy. Sweet cheese, my friend, sweet cheese. I was in Radio Shack couple of days ago, and I got this little netflix coupon for 10 free DVD rentals. It looks like a good idea. The code is 39228579, if you want to check it out. I haven't yet, but I will later tonight--during the next insipid gin and tonic (T&T, as it is made with Tanqueray). 
The website has logged better than 500 visits for March. That is what the layman calls "sweet pizza pie". That is what the politician calls "chocolate panty sauce". That is what the carpenter calls "moist".
03.24.01 These tournament brackets of mine just aren't shaping up to be "winners". I've still got a shot at breaking 50%, but even if that does happen it will be something of a hollow victory. I've been working out a new song. It is about how on some days you are the horse, and then on other days you are the saddle. Everything is going well with it, and I expect to be finished in another couple of weeks--sale of this house notwithstanding. There's been no new commentary since the Superbowl. I started to write some compelling reviews of mediocre beers, but then Lent came to pass and the beer was right out. However, I have heard from King Tufu, and things are looking up for the commentary-hungry among you:
Not entirely unclear is it? Don't worry, I sensed your excitement and have already provide a towel. Was there something else? No, I don't think so, but if there was I will get around to it later.
03.20.01 Now here's a curiosity. I was combing through the web site logs, stroking my chin and fostering a deep sense of self satisfaction at the range of nations which have provided some traffic to the cocksocket. That's what I was doing when I noticed that this web site had received 21 hits from a nation called Moldova. Moldova? Yes, that's right, Moldova. I don't mean to belie my general geographic ignorance, but I've never heard of this country before. So I thought I'd look it up--"Maybe it's one of those tax shelter island nations that seem to pepper Dateline and 60 Minutes 'headlines' every so often," I thought. Alas, no.
So there's your History lesson for the month. Study It. Focus your minds. Spread the word. VIVA BESSARABIA!
03.16.01 NCAA Basketball update: After the first day of play, my picks are coming in at a paltry 44% winning. Compare that to the RPI and Tournament Seeding results, both 56%. The real pisser this evening, however, is the weak ass Hoosier performance. Piss. Nutsack. Anyway, here is the latest and greatest according to Loretta
Cocksocket has acquired a new International Headquarters located 2 miles southeast of Coshocton, Ohio. The staff is still in the process of moving to Coshocton and becoming acquainted with our new surroundings. So far we have found Coshocton to be quite delightful. There is a restaurant called Robson's Restaurant & Catering. They are open for 3 meals every day. I think we will like it here. And Coshocton is going to love having Cocksocket in their town. A full assault on the rejuvenation of Cocksocket has begun. We have added some new features that will continue to grow with the passage of time. King TuFu's Hot Links is a new favorite of this sexually questionable reporter. The King, as we call him around here, has compiled a list of links that are interesting, educational, and quite entertaining. My personal favorite is the online Etch-A-Sketch or maybe the Lego Porn. I am torn. We are working on a new section to answer all of your questions regarding Cocksocket, life, music, and other stuff. It will be called Ask The Experts. We have already lined up a full complement of experts available to answer your common queries. Answered questions will be posted on the Cocksocket site too. We have the design basically worked out; look for the implementation in early April. The new Garageband area lets you see a few of the reviews given on Cocksocket music. Some of the reviews are polite, some are new fans, and others are down right mean. Later, this section may also include an area for you to post a review of your own. We have not decided on this yet though. I am viewing the site statistics for Cocksocket. Looking specifically at the search strings that have brought a number of visitors to partake of some Cocksocket. Included are the top twenty search strings.
Finally, there has been talk of a Cocksocket redesign. I am not sure of the scope or magnitude of the redesign. But the end result will be magnificent.
Learning to use a panty liner,
03.15.01 This weekend comprises the greatest four days in all of sports. Between now and Sunday, 48 college basketball games will be played and, no doubt, enjoyed by me, as I loaf on the sofa comforted by the hoop, the ball, the scotch, and the endless tube of Pringles in the pocket of my elbow. Prognosticated Highlights: GONZAGA EDGES OUT VIRGINIA! OH YEAH! BYU SHOCKS CINCINNATI! NOT! W. KENTUCKY ADVANCES TO SWEET SIXTEEN! NOT! BUTLER RIDES DEFENSE INTO THE GREAT EIGHT! NOT! INDIANA: GOODBYE MARYLAND, HELLO FINAL FOUR! NOT! I know how the Sports Beat is typically Loretta's realm, but the NCAA tournament is not likely to get treatment from that girlie-man who claims that "Basketball is gay" (not that there's anything wrong with that). Anyway, s/he has been kind enough to fill in for me, and one gay turn deserves another (it's okay to joke about this kind of thing if you are gay, you know). In any case, check out my authoritative tournament brackets.
They will be updated as play progresses.
03.13.01 I think Loretta has done a fine job filling in on such short notice. It's been a terrific help, and a fantastic diversion. So, let's download some applause for the girlie-man inside us all. The Bapudi guy has been in touch. The Bapudi guy was right decent when he added a couple of cocksocket songs to this new mp3 station, Chords of Dischord, described by the master as "Dischordian flim-flam and Dobbsian horseradish". If you go there, have a listen to No Need To Get Stupid, and (the new classic "featured" song) I Couldn't Believe It. I've added and updated a couple of site sections. Check out some of the Garageband Feedback. I'll be updating this section regularly over the next couple of weeks. Also, King Tufu's HotLinks is now in full effect--at least for the time being. King Tufu sent word "on a personal note". I have decided to share it with the rest of humanity, considering that what is personal for King Tufu ought to be personal for all persons. And here is a little slice of poetry from His Majesty: Loretta is planning something monumental for the near future. Stay tuned for that goodness. 03.08.01 Loretta is filling in again. Good Loretta. Nice Loretta. Sweet, tasty Loretta. Check out updates to Matt's Sports Beat and King Tufu's HotLinks. What Loretta has to say:
Napster is in trouble. The courts ruled that Napster must stop the trading of copyrighted music within 72 hours after receiving a list of copyrighted music. I see at least four problems with that portion of the ruling alone.
I have heard that record sales since the beginning of Napster have actually increased. Does the demise of Napster mean a slump in record sales? The whole situation is fucked up and the real solution has yet to rear its ugly head. Lucky for you, Cocksocket songs are not copyrighted and therefore still able to be traded at Napster and any other site you can find (won't be hard) to trade music. I look for a Napster type of site to open up the same day the injunction takes effect. This site will use the existing Napster software but be run by someone else. Then the whole battle will start again. So don't uninstall Napster from your system. The software will make a return.
Unsure about the tingling in my left nut,
03.03.01 Everybody knew it was coming and now it is here. This is the next installment of Cocksocket update according to Loretta. It's 5:00 am and I have found a new Internet toy to replace that which does not exist in my dull life, searching Ebay for "available" domain names. Here is a list of names that are available at the time of this writing:
And then there are various "Rare 3 letter domains!" or "Rare 4 letter domains". The problem with these is that no human, outside of a coma, would imagine these 3 or 4 letters and numbers in succession. They may be rare but they are not coherent. Ebay is a fine tool; unfortunately it also allows the mentally challenged douche bags that try to sell shit like this onto the site to stifle the useful auction items. That is all for now. I will return next week (if needed) if the Captain is still on maximus vacationus.
Love It In The Love Tunnel,
02.28.01 Today is the last day of February and the first day of Lent, and there are many things afoot. This week has seen the death of my studio bench, which was one trying and traumatic consequence of the moving out process. About 2 years ago, I decided to organize and refresh my studio. I bought some extra quarter-inch cables, new strings for the guitar, and about a hundred dollars worth of plywood and pine, with which I constructed an elaborate and sexy housing for the 4-tracks, mixer, studio computer, receiver, tape deck, turntables, television, and keyboards. If it sounds like this complement of equipment would require a sizable bench, well then you heard right. I probably put about forty hours of work into it over the course of a week. I built the first section in the garage; the second and third were constructed in the front room, where the air was conditioned to stave off the irrepressible heat that was sweeping through Richmond at the time. I moved each of the three cubic sections upstairs into the studio, where I finished by bolting on several layers of 1-inch plywood. It was quite a task, but in every way a labor of love (well not in every way, but in most non-sexual ways). This past week, as we packed up and painted the studio, it became clear that the magical bench would not be able to stay in the room; nor would it be able to leave the room intact. And so, I took a hammer and a saw, and a chisel, and a borderline amount of agression and frustration and decimated my precious creation. It was actually a lot of fun, and my biggest regret is not having captured either the construction or the deconstruction on film to share with my massive fans, my massive fanbase, or my massive friend Loretta. So it goes. The need for a new studio will no doubt arise shortly, and I will again play out my role as benchmaster. And when that day comes, I will get it all on tape. So Lent is on, and even though I'm not particularly Catholic, I generally give something up anyway. Self denial is a great institution, insofar as it sucks. But, you know, in a good way. I've given up meat quite a few times. Two years ago I gave up coffee, and last year I gave up cigarettes and alcohol. Yeah. It's going to be hard to top last year. This year I'm going for coffee and beer--or rather I'm not going for coffee or beer. Whatever. Coffee and beer are out. But really this year's going to be cake, on account of how Sundays aren't technically part of Lent. In a way I feel scandalized by this detail, but on the other hand I can get to it. I thought this web site had some nice thoughts on the tradition:
Okay. Maybe this isn't the most lucid description, but the notion is alright. Anyway, it's getting late, and there is ever more work to be done. Loretta may be filling in again soon, so send her some email of encouragement.
02.27.01 I have, at the Captain's request, taken the time to write this Cocksocket site update. I know nothing about the status of this site except to say "It is not fresh". I spoke with the Captain Saturday and he has given me the moving update. Stina is forcing him [editors note: "no, no, baby. That ain't really true. I'd be doing it anyway, even if you weren't around"], against his will, to devote all free time to cleaning and prepping the house for sale. This leaves the Cocksocket fan in a bit of an odd place since we are used to weekly updates on the ins and outs of running a socket for a cock. That is the update. Now on to my personal notes. I have been studying the stats page for Cocksocket and have noticed that only about 1/10 of viewers are entering my portion of the site. This not good. Did you other 9/10 of the viewers know that I now have a theme song playing on page load? Shit is updated here so pay attention to it.
I have been learning about cascading style sheets lately and have learned this much so far: style sheets are the coolest fucking things you can add to your site.
To learn more on style sheets visit:
HTMLGOODIES.COM
Good all around info with tons of how-tos
HTMLSTUFF.COM
So-so info quick reference.
MICROSOFT.COM
Read their tutorials and then look at their sheets.
Forever Yours, 02.16.01 Reports of Napster's death have been greatly understated. I've been an avid user of the service for months now. When you get something efficient like mp3 compression together with something fast like broadband internet access, and then throw in something absolutely revolutionary like P2P file sharing, you have a recipe for sweetness and light. There were nights when Stina didn't come to bed until 7:30 in the morning, all bleary-eyed, dazed, and much richer in the ways of mp3s. We probably socked away close to 3,000 songs over the last year, and let me tell you it was not in any particular protest to the record labels. It was not because we felt that the artists were overpaid sacks of jelly. Not even (and I do so hate to admit this) because we wanted to confront and destroy those overarching, overbearing, overplayed notions of intellectual property. It was just a case of "Holy Shit! I can download these things just about as fast as I can imagine what I want to hear". But I've got to tell you, ever since the Bertelsmann deal, Napster changed. Suddenly there were songs that were not available for download. The number of nodes and files stagnated--although, even today, I can go download some Britney Spears or Ween. In fact, it looks like the numbers of users on the system right now is about double where it has been for the last few months. Tonight, half a week after the ruling, there are about 10,000 libraries comprising 1.8 million files. But what I want to know is, if Harry Banks is correct when he says that there are 50 million registered Napster users, why are there rarely more than 5,000 chuckleheads on at any given time? That's like one-tenth of one-tenth of one percent of all the "registered" Napsterites. Further, last October we could barely sign onto a Napster server before being deluged with download requests. The traffic got so heavy that we had to take a big part of our library offline. But today, we get like 2 downloads an hour. I've been on for an hour tonight, and the only upload action I've seen is one poor bastard trying (unsuccessfully) to get himself a Kim Mitchell song, "I Am A Wild Party". I don't know with any certainty what this means, but it could be that Napster is more like a closed system than we originally thought. With 10,000 nodes and 1.8 million files means 180 files per user--and as far as I can tell there is no material amount of file exchanging going on. On a different note, another garageband review of Alone was delivered yeasterday. Based on this I'd call him a cheerleader: As I looked through his other reviews, I found that this dude never has a negative word for anybody. Still and all, I consider him my newest fan. Whoopity Doo! I've been doing a lot to get the house in shape to sell. That's not giving me much free time, although I'm not letting anything cut into my "me" time. Updates to this site are going to be pretty subspersive for the next month or two. Call it vacation or something. This amazing house of Organica has been getting a fair amount of traffic from sketchzilla, an interesting little take on grafitti, collage, and publishing. Heard about it from detritus. I've been adding lots of CockSocket nuggets there and the masses have driven forth in droves. One thing that bothers me though, this page cannot be viewed with Netscape. It's a situation I'd like to rectify, and one which a sketchzilla viewer aptly noted with this well-crafted, wry observation: It's cool though, because I tracked him down and kicked his ass. 02.12.01 There have been some technical difficulties with updating and finalizing Matt's Sports Beat. Matt has provide some words of wisdom on the XFL, and some wistful nostalgia on the 2000-2001 NFL Sports Beat Season. The updates are coming. I've refreshed some of the featured crap, including the link, musician, and quote. Make sure to enjoy all of that and all of that. Also, this thing called sketchzilla is quite entertaining...I recommend this one My investigations into beer superiority / inferiority continue, with a recent comparison of Michelob Amber Bock and Southpaw Light. I believe that all of the beer-style intelligence I am gathering will soon be built into a hard-hitting journalistic perquisition of sort. Yeah. I'll get to that eventually too. Well enough about CockSocket, what about IUMA? It's just a doggone dirty shame what's happened to everybody's favorite storage locker. Oh the memories! The humanity! This site has been a real gem, the last bastion for the storage of my cover tunes, and anything else remotely close to offending the sensibilities of the copyright-minded mp3.com. It's not a total wash yet, as made clear in some of the email from Jeff Patterson et. al.:
Well, what can you say about that? Let's all just take a step back, dry our eyes, and download a moment of silence for the excellence that was I.U.M.A. Okay then, as you were.
02.04.01 Cocksocket has passed safely into the realm of narcopop, which places "stringent quality control standards" on the sites for which they host links. I looked through the narcopop site a couple of nights ago, and it seems like a pretty good thing. You can explore a couple of hundred links to artist sites, or weed through a couple of forums, although there's not a lot of discussion going on there. The site is run by a company called Tangent Web Design. I'm not really sure what their interest is here.
I've been fishing through the mid-to-low priced beer segment of my local Winn-Dixie, looking for that holy grail of a beer that tastes as good as Bass, but costs as little as Bud. The beer selection at the Winn-Dixie is piss poor to begin with, but given the limited options that can still be called "convenient", I have made some discoveries about the underpriced layer of the beer industry. First of all, anything at or below 6 cents per ounce tastes like beer, only with chemical or fecal additives. However, given the choice between Yuengling lager, Michelob beer, Pabst Blue Ribbon, and Rolling Rock Extra Pale, Yuengling stands out as the premier peanut in the turd. Rolling Rock is easily the worst of the four. In any case, I've got my crack team of experts here at cocksocket headquarters designing and testing beers with the explicit intention of answering the age-old question:
Which Beer Will I Be Drinking Tonight?
02.03.01 It is late right now, very late. In fact it is Saturday morning, and I can't sleep. I've spent a lot of time on mp3.com tonight, listening to some random songs. I started a station, called Finger Sauce Extravaganza, which is basically a collection of the better, more peppery songs I have encountered. All of them strike me as the sorts of thing that I might have done, had I been more prolific, outfitted, or sedated. I've also been making the web page there look more like the web page here.
I stumbled across a few interesting links, like
Nintari,
Narcopop,
Super Bad,
Radio 1,
Linkdup,
Skam Records, and
NASA20. These are worth a look, particularly if you can't sleep and have some extra time to spend eeking out the extra mustard--if you know what I mean (and I don't think you do).
01.31.01 I an unusually happy, ecstatic if you will, yet there is no real reason for it. I'm no more productive than usual, but I have the irrepressible sense that I can get anything done. I've been getting up very early, but have an indefatigable spirit. So anyway, that's what it is. Matt has delivered a summation of his NFL game-picking experience, which has become the new featured commentary. Here's what he had to say about it:
Matt's commentary is so important, in fact, that I have take the liberty of presenting 3 different versions. The first is given as he wrote it. The second is an English translation of the Italian translation of what he originally wrote in English. The third is an English translation of the German translation of what he originally wrote. Mind boggling? Let's hear it for the dictionary translator! A couple of new reviews have come through garageband. There was a good one for Alone:
There was another fine review for Chocolate Syrup Panty Hose:
And I say to you, sir, as I say to all my people--no, no, thank YOU.
Finally, It appears that cocksocket has made onto it's 9th mp3.com "radio" station. This time the distinction is dubious, yet gratifying in some sense. Therefore, check out Love Ballad To Tabitha Soren on The Blowjob Mixtape.
01.27.01 Well, this is it. The Super Bowl is tomorrow. Matt began this NFL season with grand designs. By picking tomorrow's game correctly, he will have reached 54.90% correct; otherwise he slips to 52.94%. Even if this is well below his stated goal of 80%, who can really call these results "substandard" or "weak at best" or "wussy-style girly-man action"? Week in and week out Matt had the courage, the audacity to lay it all on the line. Game after punishing game, through the glory and the turpitude, with the eyes of the world upon him, Matt fearlessly made his calls. He gave not an inch, budged for no one. Only once did he refuse to present a Sports Beat, but he never gave out less than he got, and he never settled for second best. So send your words of support, and review the glory that has been Matt's Sports Beat. I was running through the site logs, and it appears that someone conducted a search for "gold bond masturbate" and, as a result, found himself (or herself) at this site. Now, what I want to know is whether cocksocket was able to satisfy that person's request for "gold bond masturbate" knowledge. If you're out there, please drop us a line and let us know. As noted earlier, cocksocket is moving out of the brick. The new headquarters will be located very near by in a small apartment. The new place will come with DSL service, but the studio itself will have to be relegated to a small corner of the extra bedroom. All of this is expected to transpire at the beginning of March, so expect some disruption in site updates and new music generation until then.
Oh yeah, speaking of new music generation, check out the new featured song, "Twelve Seconds", generated especially for the music generation.
01.19.01
I (and when I say "I" I mean Matt) was browsing around with my homey and happened upon nutsack.com. This is a cheerful little site with squirrels swinging nuts. I believe this to be the [2nd] most influential site on the web.
01.18.01 Everything is getting crazy and moving fast. Like myself. I too will be moving fast. It's been a great run here at the Brick, but due to an unbelievably elaborate complement of developments, both reasonable and emotional, we're moving out. Fast. Don't worry though, other things are happening everywhere and all at once. And if you don't hear from me soon, you will hear from me later. As for sports and beats, Matt and I have resolved our titanic conflict and laid to rest all the discord and frustration that has come to a head here at the end of this hard fought season of football picking skills.
However valid and earnest the opposing ideologies may have been, nothing was being compromised other than your impressionable minds. So here it is, the final NFL edition of Matt's Sports Beat.
Finally, for what it is worth, I am pretty sure that any traffic moving through Garageband is not listening to music. Probably just checking for new reviews like me. So I engage you now, in the name of all that is saucy and delicious, for the sake of all that which bolsters the wickerwork upon which our fair society rests, to go out and review some independent music.
01.13.01 Matt and I have become entangled in an old-fashioned Mexican Style Standoff. I confess that I am to blame in all of this, but Matt's proposed solution will do little more than exercise his wrath on you, the people. To wit:
So, although I am clearly at fault in this matter, it would nevertheless be unconscionable for me to inflict my inadequacies also on you, by depriving you of the standard weekly sports insight that has become the hallmark of all that is done here among the organica. And so, in short, and without further ado, in the tradition of Ruth's Chris Steak House, cocksocket proudly presents Ben's Matt Sports Beat. And rest assured that I will send the cd sooner than humanly possible (or thereabouts).
01.11.01 Greetings from beneath the Earth. The middle of the apple sauce. The top of the line. Have I mentioned before how The Daily Show is the best program on television? Well, it is. The most important television program--ever. Uncle Dougly has given in to whim, whimsy, and incessant badgering, and has agreed to write some kind of music review action for the sake of the socket. That is good of him, as his acumen warrants special attention, while our content is, in general, somewhat lacking in substance. Whoopity Doo! I often wonder what it is that brings somebody to the cocksocket web site. Through the miracle of modern tracking systems, I can devine what search terms somehow yield hyperlinks to this, the humblest abode of organica. For example, try searching for "amazing ass" on lycos, or "turtle head poop" on google (like the 35th result). It's all good, and (with patience perhaps) it will all lead you to here. Sustained silence on the fussball front. Now, we don't want to give it to him too straight, or with too may jeers, but Matt's playoff divinations are not nearly as stellar as his regular-season, bad-ass self. Hovering at 25% for the playoffs, his picks for this weekend are eagerly anticipated. I have encountered a notable Napster slowdown over the course of the last couple of weeks. I'm currently sharing about 400 files, but I am almost never uploading. Three months ago, within 30 seconds of signing on, I would have had 4 or 5 folks already downloading songs. And if that's not enough, Christina has reported no fewer than 4 (relatively mainstream) songs that she could not even find in her searches. The situation, as A. J. Soprano might say, is "all dicked up".
That's just about all. I have added a recent Discover Magazine solicitation to the crap. Sometimes mass customization can be sooooo easy ...
01.05.01 Mainly, Matt has checked in with a "brand new for the New-Year" Sports Beat. It is Friday night and, at Toby's behest, I have decided not to launder until tomorrow at the earliest. All else is basically quiet here. I intend on introducing music and film reviews here shortly. My main inspiration for instituting the reviews comes from here. Please feel free to send in reviews of whatever music and films you have been enjoying. Also, in connection with the forthcoming criticism, I am working up a couple of covert "media projects". The music leg will be called the Gigabeat Project, while the movie leg will be referred to as Project Divx. I don't really want to get into the specifics of either of these projects, as the details are not yet finalized--nor even fully conceived. However, I hope to outline the basic premises over the course of the coming week. Another interesting review came in through Garageband this week. The new assessment, of the song It's Twelve O'Clock, Otto, is not as flattering as the review Lison gave for CSPH. Potts nevertheless does make some good points:
Finally, I noticed that a google search for "cocksocket" no longer brings up this web site. Maybe they cleaned out their cashes for the New Year or something. Whatever the case, it sort of sucks (but not too terribly bad).
01.03.01 I'm not sure what part of me it is that thinks an enormous shot of Wild Turkey in between half-gallons of beer is a good idea, but if I ever find it I will cut it off. Of course, I will keep it on ice in a mason jar just in case it needs to be re-attached. You know, like what if alcohol really does make me more interesting and intelligent and, by giving it up, I am forced to live out a life of quiet desperation? But in this case, the case of my New Year's Eve party, I do feel some genuine remorse for telling everybody to "smell my ass". They were such nice folks, after all. Mr. Dougly was there, welcoming the new year with an intimate set of songs. Damn I wish I had been just a little more conscious for just a little longer. At any rate, happy new year and all of that. Papa has unwittingly contributed the latest commentary: a cogent and eloquent little political bit about the wonders of our latest election. No word from Matt since well before the Holiday. I would like to think that he didn't trick himself into drinking a tall cool glass of whiskey at half past eleven. No, surely not, that guy is much much smarter than I. Cocksocket now has a presence on 8 different mp3.com "radio" stations. The latest, dreams of Haselmaus, is sponsored by Lison, an entity that heard Chocolate Syrup Panty Hose on Garageband. He gave a thoughtful, favorable review, with which I am down:
I'm just listening to his stuff now, and I must say that it is very well put together. Excellent home-recording production and musicianship. I am particularly fond of the song called Sometimes.
12.28.00 To travel east in the winter and there to contract nasty illnesses are huge pains in the ass. I came across an entry for "Cock Socket" on everything2 today. I haven't messed with this site very much, but if you're there anytime in the near future, why don't you just add a little node that incorporates these here experiments in organica? I'd do it myself, but lately I've been a bit preoccupied with coughing up rusty colored lumps of bile. I found a group on mp3.com called Bentelli. The songs are interesting, if somewhat underproduced, and Bentelli seems to be onboard with cocksocketonian affinities. The song I like best is "Magnets"--but please note: Bentelli is no Bapudi
The first post-season Sports Beat is in. Check it out for some new insights about the sporting angles Matt proposes to tackle in the coming months.
12.23.00
To travel north in the winter is a huge pain in the ass. My advice: trains are as unreliable as airplanes in the cold. Cocksocket, evidently through the open directory project, has become a part of the sexbuzz webguide. Sexbuzz looks like a fair attempt at putting together an online men's magazine--think amature Playboy with no real nudity:
I'm not too sure about all of that, but for "lifestyle products and services" I always turn to Lifeway. Matt's final regular-season Sports Beat is here, and in this bold new format he could possibly wrap up the season at just over 71%. Of course, he could also finish as low as 36%. Let's hear it for this big-time risk-taker. Whoopity Doo! 12.16.00 Dear Relentless and Obsessive cocksocket Fanatic, Travel, travel, travel... Spent most of my time last week flying around to different places to do different things to acquire knowledge as well as the means to continue filling what little free time I still have with the glorious strains of cocksocket. We'll be spending next week riding around in a train, visiting fading family members and so forth. I'll try to get another update in before Christmas.
Well that's enough about me. What about you? You been doing anything new and exciting lately? I'd love to hear all about it. You know, Matt's latest Sports Beat has arrived, and with it comes the exhilarating possibility that this week's picks will keep him above .500. You go girl!
I do not expect much work on new music until after the New Year, but in the meantime I'll try to upload a thing or two that I've got lying around over here. In particular, check out the featured, renegade version of the popular hit "Don't Tell My Heart". This was the first of my songs ever to have been rejected by mp3.com--back in December 1998. Please note how essential iuma.com is to the process of delivering the vaguely illicit morsels of the cocksocket repertoire.
At any rate, I hope this letter finds you in good health and in good spirits. Eat well, prosper, and (above all) try not to do anything stupid.
Happy Holidays,
P.S.
12.07.00
I can't believe we are already into the second week of December (in the year of our Lord 2000). I mean, come on already. This is moving quickly now isn't it? First off, the ChristmaSocket project is never actually going to make it to "project" status. My intentions were, as always, quite pure, but what kind of a project has only one song? I've not even been able to begin to formulate the professionally distilled essence of Cocksocket's White Christmas or Jingle Bells; I have, consequently, resolved to pull the plug on this project and re-present it during the holidays next year. Listen to "Frosty" now while it is still up, yo.
I have been involved lately in a secret, sensitive collaboration with Toby. We are developing serious old-school intercontinental type cocksocket shit in the respective basements of our irrespective souls, so you have no real reason to fear. In fact you now have ample reason to rejoice, for our efforts will soon be available here. Stay tuned.
Matt's record has "zoomed" ahead of 50% due to his (mostly) successful picks last week 11.30.00
It is in fact the case that mp3.com has refused to host Frosty D. Snowman "pending resolution of a copyright issue". Smells like a crock of shit to me, but I suppose this kind of thing is a live wire these days. I honestly have a difficult time seeing the real issue here. Have I somehow stolen something? Does my interpretation of the larger concepts of "tradition" and "holiday" truly amount to theft? Not likely, in my notoriously sage view. Whatever else may be said, I do have some information to report to those budding musicians who, like me, may have an ear for incorporating some old-time samples into their work: It looks like you can get a sample for around 40 bucks.
11.28.00 The first song from the forthcoming Christmas project has been encoded & uploaded. It is likely that the new tune, "Frosty D. Snowman", is somewhat copyright challenged, and mp3.com is not allowing it on the site.
I guess their recent legal trouble is starting to sink in--so be sure not to let them know about the Blabber Mouth Cat song. At any rate, I did succed in uploading this hot little mama to iuma, where the transfer rates--like the standards--are low.
11.22.00
Yesterday, I received the first cocksocket royalty check, in the amount of $0.71, from the nice folks at IUMA. You see, those folks give me a spot to post my songs, I drive massive amounts of traffic to their site, and they in turn cut me checks for wicked pocketfuls of fat cash. Rock!
Thanksgiving is a time for binging and purging all the wicked and nasty thoughts of self denial you had earlier in the year. During Lent. Also Thanksgiving is a time for parades, panties, and pigskin. Therefore, Matt / Loretta proudly presents his / her First Annual Artificially Expanded Sports Beat.
11.19.00 Cocksocket is now officially a key component of the DMOZ Open Directory Project (please, hold your applause until the end). Also, and I do believe this is in a somewhat related vein, we are listed with opendir@gate99. Gate99 is something that exists in another language--probably something akin to Netherlandic or whatever it is they speak under there, in the Netherlands. At any rate I am not scared of it.
Cocksocket has conceived and developed two compositions as yet unrelated to any defined project. The first, which is not called Manatee With A Mustache, sounds a little like the build up to a horror flick's climax, while the second, which is not called Pokey Loping Bitches, is not anything remotely like a pokey, loping bitch. Although these are nothing more than experiments with randomly generated bullshit in csound, either one will nevertheless move you tears. Crybaby.
11.18.00
I uploaded two more songs to garageband, Alone and It's Twelve O'Clock, Otto. Garageband has changed its look, and I know it is experiencing incredible traffic growth, so here's hoping that these songs will be injected into rotation soon. Chocolate Syrup Panty Hose and I Couldn't Believe It have been up for like 6 months, and the reviewing is going sooooo slooooowly.
11.15.00
The latest mp3 station to host cocksocketonian delights is Marvelous Marty Mays & Friends. Cocksocket seems to have been included here due to a shared fondness for / addiction to Gold Bond. Other mp3 stations savvy enough to include a cocksocket nugget in their playlists:
Lucky Bands Station, Richmond Noise, Bands With Fucked Up Names Radio (N.B. This one also includes the droidbangers), Fusion's Top Picks Vol 2, Sexual Chocolate, 1 For The Road.
In addition to all that nonsense, you can always seek comfort in Matt's most recent Sports Beat. Without calling more than 2 games per week, it is now impossible for Matt to bring his regular season picks up to 80%. At the very best he may see 78%, and anything above 70% we shall applaud in notorious fashion.
Finally, if you are somebody besides Matt or myself then press the contact bar above and send an email identifying your motives. Otherwise I will be forced to check with the authorities or something else sufficiently scary. You know.
11.11.00
Well it's worse than I originally thought. More than merely embarassed and lady-like, Matt seems a little despondent and apathetic towards this week's Sports Beat, and towards his loyal fanbase. So, everybody should send him some uplifting mail, unless you think he is a little ho-bag. That is all; at ease.
11.09.00 Now, I tell you, it is even worse than halloween time. First thing's first: Mister Magic Matt has recently gone 0-2 on some football games, the outcomes of which appeared beforehand to be indisputable, and which he himself vowed not to call incorrectly. No word from him lately. Presumably he is sad and embarassed about the whole affair. He is really just a soft little girl inside. Alex (not his real name), who wishes to be called "PigFucker C.A.D.D.", has submitted something that resembles commentary. Here's an excerpt from what you may find over here with the other amazing crap:
I will now put up a new feature song. Now, isn't that better? Also, Mindless Self Indulgence.
10.31.00 Oooooh! Spooky halloween time. Pox upon those liquor-stealing, bitch-ass neighbor kids if they touch my jack-o-lantern of "Pumpkinarchy". I received an email from Loretta (a.k.a. Matt) lamenting mp3 download times in the era of widespread narrowband connections (suckers!). He wants his own CD and makes a compelling case for getting one:
His full argument is collected here, among the other crap. What can I say? I'll have to send him a disc, and (for a limited time only) I'll send one to you too. Just drop me a line, include your name, address, and 750 word essay on any topic of your choice, and I'll probably send you a CD. Good deal. Also, check out Matt's newest Sports Beat. His quick turnaround and burgeoning football savvy make him all the more likely to hit 67% next Monday.
10.29.00
Alright kiddies. Matt's latest Sports Beat has arrived, and we are all prepared to watch him hit 70% or 50% (or somewhere in between). As far as the current crap goes, the Kakatory DooDoofication project is now in place. Also, I've been spending most of my music time with csound, which seems like a pretty big sort of thing. Yeah, yeah, that's all coming up soon. Even sooner, perhaps, is a new, full-fledged project. I am set to send a 4-track to Toby on Monday. Provided he can find his tapes and is willing to mix them down and submit them to your sorry ass, there will be some ripe-ass & funkay fresh cocksocketing going on soon. In the mean time, I'll be scouring mp3.com for interesting shit and trying to dig up some new quote for the front page. I'm pretty pumped up about all the developments and varieties of doage that are nestled in the cool of the autumn air around us.
10.26.00 Well, it has been two weeks since I implored my creative team to begin work on the first wave of commentary. They're all pretty silent on the issue. Alex seems to have interest, but is concerned that this web page doesn't really exist. Here is bit from one of his emails:
So it's probably a good idea to send him some mail. Matt, on the other hand, is a true pillar of the cocksocket community, always meeting his deadlines and crap like that. All the rest are quiet like naptime, I don't really know about them yet.
On a higher note, Cocksocket has been added to another mp3 station. This is by virtue of the song title for Lucky, which is about to become the featured song here. And finally, after my notable diatribe against csound, I actually took the time to figure out how to install a compiler. Without retracting my previous claim to remarkable computer prowess, I must advise that it will be some time before I produce anything at all with the language.
10.20.00
This weekend I'll be putting up the Kakatory DooDoofication project, so just prepare yourself for that. The contributing base is shriveling up like a withered piece of lettuce. Matt, however, continues to meet his deadline. Last week, he pulled up to 67%, but he's got a lot of hard work to do to get to his stated goal of 80%. Take a look at his latest Sports Beat for all the information about that. I recently dusted off the old Tascam 234, and began some new recordings sans computer for the project temporarily known as The Artist Formerly Known As Communication.
10.16.00
Please note: cocksocket has been reviewed and, I guess, classified. Whatever it is, it can be found here through listen.com, or here on Yahoo!, also sponsored by listen.com. I found out this morning and then I peed in my friend's pants. SWEET
10.12.00
Alright. Twist my freaking arm, man. Here's Matt's porky little Sports Beat. Check it with care. The man was 2-0 the first week, and 0-2 the second. Well I guess somebody's been hitting the bottle again. All nads aside, I'm going to be recruiting some serious talent (read: "the big guns"), to come on and submit some commentary, because, between you and me, this little shit-bit by Alex is just not cutting it anymore. I think the Man Vs. Machine project has pretty much run its course. There are about 3 unfinished songs that will eventually find their way there, but all in all, we've pretty much got a complete thought. I've been thinking a lot about issuing some of the early crappy shit. Serves you right, ho-bag.
10.07.00
Back after a week's hiatus. Matt's getting a little big for his britches, after going 2-0 in his football picks last week. In his current Sports Beat Matt claims he's "my sports gush". I talked to a guy from Bapudi, and he grants you permission to promulgate and exchange Bapudi mp3s on Napster.
09.30.00
I'm running Napster 24/7 and there are several cocksocket mp3s in my directory. My user ID is, naturally enough, barfbag22. I think Napster's next day in court is coming like next week or something; they'll be losing their case, so download soon. You silly little freak.
09.29.00
Oh yeah! Everything is coming together smoother than a diarrhea slurpee. All the crap is basically in place, and I am a sexy mofo.
09.27.00
The new computer is Phat, but I'm going to need some time to acclimate myself to it (or it to myself, if you know what I'm saying). Anyway, we've got the first installment of Matt's Sports Beat, in which he claims he's "my sports bitch". You can check it out among other
amaZing™ Crap.
09.26.00
The old computer, which was really just a slightly beefier version of two older computers, has died. Something that seems like a video card problem, but which is not. By the way, don't buy any crap from IBM, because their crap sucks.
09.23.00 Okay, here's the deal: mp3.com is a pretty good little service, right? They are pretty good about opening up channels for independent musicians and basically giving the finger to the man, right? Maybe, but I'm getting pretty sick of looking at banner ads for Sephora, or whatever. And what is up with their new found love for the majors? Anyway, Mr. Robertson & Co. are giving me the creeps these days, so I'll see what I can manage without them. I'll still use them for storage or whatever, but I'll be only too happy to provide some fresh space and fresh content for as long as I can.
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