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:

Can u feel the effects of the chocolate tide flowing through your sphincter, while u're barfing up your soul topped with ham and cheese gravy?  The most splendid expression of aversion that man (or woman) has ever seen!  And it went on for a good 40 minutes.  The funk was digital surround, the sweat unstoppable.  I felt like a god!

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,
Mac
Official Sponsor of the 2004 Olympic Games

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
Et repect de I votre droite d'essuyer mon âne
je fais l'amusement de vos personnes
Puisque je les aime viens tellement
chèrement dans et écoute mes bruits de l'amour

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.