9622.net

Cheers to our Senor Wonderchicken, the coolest bird in the monkey house! May your journeys always be enlightening and may your bottle always be full.

and to dong_resin, who named the picture at the top of this thread and made me guffaw. You sentimental fool, you.

Wow that's one big cock.

Somebody was gonna say it. Happy Birthday, wonderfowl. May you be soaked in the alcoholic libation of your choice and may someone else pay for it.

I propose: that heretowith the first week of August be referred to as "Wonderchickenivale" and the period marked by (a) consumption of corn and grain-based liquors (b) the giving of gifts of increasing value and danger-of-acquisiton, (c) truly horrific wordplay, I mean, really, like Mad Libs but with cursing, (d) the ritual manufacture and test-firing of homemade firearms, preferably those that fire atypical projectiles and/or raw gouts of flame [trebuchets OK], and (e) consumption of corn and grain-based liquors.

Salud, my friend. I shall drink a rum in your honor tonight, though it threaten the glass in my hand, and the glass in my windows. Your Tyrannosaur footprint deserves no less a threat!

Another birthday?!?! Jeez, you'd think we had 360-some members, or something like that.

Anyway, kudos to Stav for making it this far and living a life many of us could only dream of. Also, good luck to him with the unfortunate questions of the imminent future... And most of all, please come back to the weblog world soon! You're a'missed.

Bon anniversaire, monsieur le poulet incroyable!

keese-keese, monsieur wondair-sheekone!

But soft, what light through yonder window breaks?
It is the east, and Wonderchicken is the sun!
Arise, fair sun and kill the envious monkeys
Who are already sick and pale with grief
That thou, Stavros, are more drunk than they.

As you float somewhere between Korea and Australia, let me wish you the best, my friend.

That thou, Stavros, are more drunk than they.

Since it's 1:00 in the morning on Tuesday there, I'd say that's a pretty good bet.

Pissed at 1am on a Tuesday.

Quality time.

Upon further review, I guess he's still in Korea. Well, happy birthday anyway!

We wonder as he wanders out under the sky
where Stavrosthewonderchicken will finally fly,

His birthday is over, but we still fling poo,
We wonder as he wanders if Stavros does too.

As my birthday gift to the poulet d'amour, let me recount the fact that I was smitten with chickens from the word "stavros" on the Blue site. I saw that name, I read that irreverent wit, and I was "in lurve...." There was the Korea/Portland distance thing, and the fact that I never wrote anything on the Blue to make the chicken aware of my presence, but it was he (and a couple of others) that initially made my heart go pitty-pat and thrum-thrum, and forced me to spend too much time there.

I guess I can blame you for everything, mr. poulet. Happy birthday, you word-drunk land fowl!

HAPPY FUCKING BIRTHDAY MSSR. WONDER CHICKEN!

Oh, I have no doubt that Mr. Birthday Chicken is wandering the Korean countryside, performing good deeds for the people he meets, pulling thorns from paws, and generally bringing love (and lurve) to all monkey types he meets, at least as much as he can (as sanctioned by the laws in his area).

Kinda like David Carradine, but with less inexplicable wrinkles and more booze.

Happy Birthday Stavros; Salute! Gulp! Cheers!

Stav m'lad! To celebrate this momentous day I shall organize a game of Stick the knife in the Attorney General. It's kind of like Pin the Tail on the Donkey, but generally bloodier and for the greater good.

Woo hoo! Happy birthday!

Happy (Belated) Birthday, Stav!

*topples slowly off barstool*

Oh, and in a thread giving props to one of Gotham's favorite shout-out victims, here's a shout to two who get no shouts, from a goth club in Toronto:

(Yes, that would be towerbrave, sharing the love at the appropriately named Savage Garden.)

More shots of hot goths breaking character are on their way when I have a moment.

Dammit, I've refreshed like six times, Bangs! Post the pics already!!!

You might wanna put that refresh key on a chain, there, ole buddy. It'll be another couple hours.

I'm such a fuckin' tease, eh? (If only you knew.)

What? No shout for a jealous future Canadian?

*sulks*

Fine. Be a squeaky wheel. See if I care.

Thank you my friends, for bringing some light to what was possibly the Crappiest Birthday Ever. I'm hoping it's not a harbinger of an equally crap year, because this last one was bad enough already.

I feel the love, and I am truly touched. Now get out there and have a drink, damn it!

Also, just 'cause : today (August 4th, your time at least) was the day of birth of not one but two of my ex-girlfriends, both of whom had birthmarks on their chests in exactly the same spot as I, and both of whom were (and presumably still are) Pure Evil™.

Wow. My first shoutout. I am touched indeed. Please thank TB (Maggie, was it?) for me.

(So do we have pics of YOU in full gothitude? Inquiring minds want to know (and they want blackmail material too, evidently.))

Crappiest Birthday Ever? Did you wind up crying on the loveseat in the ladies room with a drag queen?

Or going into labor and having a baby?

C'mon, top my birthdays! I dare ya!

Ha!

Oooh, my name on a Canadian napkin! I'm international, yo! I am truly honored.

Crappiest Birthday ever? Would have to have been the one (20th) where, inside of 24 hours, I (1) drank way too much Bluesberry schapps, which I of course failed to keep, and (3) was bit and later summarily dumped by a previously quite friendly upstairs neighbor. Also, that weekend, I was kicked in the chin by a "dancer."

Stav, you should go into more detail.

OK, upon more objective review, mine pales in comparison to either of Tiz's. The title remains yours, my Queen.

*bows low*

Hey, there's nothing like labor and delivery to make you think, "This birthday fun shit just ain't what it's cracked up to be." Puuuussshhhh, dammit.

I'd also like to mention that this thread gives me a Stan Ridgway earworm every time I read the title.

"Woah woah woah woah
Camouflage..."

And I don't even know the rest of the words!

I was getting the same thing only with Tom Jones.

Oh man. Now I've got the Stan Ridgway/Tom Jones duet!

Who's that? NO! Joey Lawrence?!

Let us not forget Keanu Reeves' significant contributions to the genre.

In my head, I'm picturing Tom Jones all a-swivel singing "Mexican Radio." It's grisly, but in that good kinda way.

Not as odd as Celtic Frost's death metal version or El Vez's, but now my mind is bent for the day.

9622.net: Now my mind is bent for the day.

Ah Camouflage. Now there's a song I haven't heard in a coon's age.

Wow, y'all really are freaks. The only other person of my acquaintance that know of Ridgway is in the marines...go figure.

Wow, y'all really are freaks.
Love playing his songs on a road trip; been freaked out by them while driving alone at night in the desert though. Drive she said.

how did i miss this/

happy b-day stav - you big chunk of poultry you.

Crappiest Birthday Ever only in a creepingly unpleasant and stressed-out kind of way, rather than a dramatic baby-birthin' chin-kickin' kind of way.

Grindingly annoying and unpleasant and taken up mostly with hours and hours of riding the subway to and from a job interview which went well, but for a job I really don't think I want, but may be forced by circumstances beyond my control to actually take.

Gah. I shouldn't whine. At least I'm not a dog in outer space.

But you're a monkey in inner space. How is that better?

{{{{{{{stavrosthewonderchicken}}}}}}}
Hugs to you, friend.

But in outer space, no one knows you're a dog.

Happy (belated) Birthday, stavros. Best wishes, and good luck for the coming year.

Happy birthday, Chris!

The Stav was my first Internet friend and he shall be my last. I love his honest talk; his humour; his curiosity and his undisciplined waywardness and reveries.

Good on you, mate!

Que contes muitos!

Love,

Miguel

Belated greetings from me, and here's wishing for a better birthday next year. Now have another three drinks and forget it all, O Poultry of Perfection!

What's that? What's that you say? You want more? One more?

The beach monkeys bring slightly belated sweet stonehengey love to mr. chicen.

That was wildly disappointing, Chico, for someone who was hoping for hot Goth chicks.

Not me! But those people, those other hot Goth chick lovin' people. They were disappointed, I bet.

That is beautiful! *weeps*

The monkeys, the sea, the wonder of it all.

Alright, alright, alright.

Did I mention that my job is sucking the life out of me like I'm one of those infomercial space bags? No? Oh, well. It's only today that I've started parsing the footage from the weekend and I've put up some of the highlights in this here gallery.

You'll see! The promised array of hot goth people shouting out monkeys they barely know, if at all.

You'll see! Everyone smiling uncharacteristically while "How Soon Is Now" plays in constant loop in the background.

You'll see! Blue hair, bare legs, and more black clothing than in a boutique catering exclusive to Italian grandmothers.

(PS - That's not my cock that one woman's holding. Just to clarify.)

Sweet Morrissey, what a disappointing goth scene in fair Toronto! Apparently I'm more goth on an average day than these folk, let alone when I truly explore my gothnicity on a sticky dance floor with the morbid pulse of VNV Nation dancing through my veins.

I hereby retract every nasty comment I ever made about goth-folk. Who can stay hostile in the face of such guilelessness.

Bring on the vinyl and black nailpolish, I say, bring it on.

..and grunge laid down with goth, there was peace..

Vanilla Nut Vomit?

I must agree with the esteemed Fes here. The goth girls are magnetic. Must be the way they just scream "I am so messed up, you'll be recovering from my emotional trauma for years to come" that does it.

Witchy, to be fair, most of us were just playing goth. There were a couple of former players in the scene, and it seemed like a good place to throw a party, so we thought what the hell. (You can tell that we were kind of shunned by the rest of the people in the club.)

But if it ever matters (and since searchers for Toronto Goth Culture will now find this page), there's a better representation of that whole scene at Toronto-Goth.com. (End of PSA.)

Texas sucked the goth right out of me, but not to the point of becoming a country twanger.

Chico, to be fair, I was joking. :D

Must be the way they just scream "I am so messed up, you'll be recovering from my emotional trauma for years to come" that does it.

Add in the black hair, pale skin, penchant for baroque lingerie, and carefully crafted carapace of jade over disaffectation over insecurity? It doesn't get any sexier than that, does it? Nope. Thanks Chico!

"So, uh... can I buy you an absinthe or something? Barkeep! I mean, Thrall! An absinthe for the Lady, and another Michelob Ultra for me!"

Fes, You have no idea how much of that was going down that night. There's this drink called Rev (jon, have you heard of this?) that comes in plastic bottles and tastes like, oh, Vodka & caffeinated mouthwash, and it glows under the black lights, and it's like 7 or 7.5% alcohol, and the non-pregnant of us were pounding them back in a semi-literary frenzy waiting for either a) the visions to start happening, or b) the damned things to start tasting better.

The seances didn't work, and those drinks kept tasting like the inside of a vinyl doggie toy, but after a half-dozen of them, we did get a little fuzzy.

And witchy, no joke, you would have outgothed most of these people in your sleep. Most of the fleurs du mal types in the room didn't have that sense of humor, though, which made our table just get louder and more gleeful with every snort of derision we heard. You would have gotten a kick out of it, I think.

i was always an olive drab goth, or as an friend used to say, 'a khaki goth'.

i wear khaki on the outside because khaki is how i feel on the inside.

Whilst I was preparing to photograph my little spelling impaired monkey friends, two women passed behind me on the boardwalk. One woman was saying "...well it *is* a time for renewal, but the mental stuff will have to come later."
This sounded like some cosmic birthday message for Mr. Wonderchicken, so I thought I'd best pass it on.

Jesus god Chico, that pic is magnificent. Thank you - seriously, that damn near brought tears to my eyes. And thank you again, everyone, for the b-day wishes.

*smooches the chiconian pate†, blows kiss to assembled monkeys*

† which is hard to do without lips.

Wow...so many shoutouts. Thanks!

notsnot, your Marine joining friend, his name isn't Camoflage by any chance ?????

So freak out...Daniel Johnston.......c'mon, "Like a Monkey in a Zoo" & say, "Museum of Love"? don't say you don't know him and his songs?

I'd be shocked.

the next time you do a monkey piss up in Toronto, I'd love to join in! Here I thought I was the only one [great bar BTW] in this village! Don't they hold "Dark Rave's" there? At Savage Gdn? I'm more familiar with the fetish dances at the Reverb.

johnmc, Excellent! Hah! Well said! "...and grunge laid down with goth, there was peace..."

Chico, Rev >>>??

Fucking Rev?

That is swill, I swear! [better described experience]. Sweet. Waaay too sweet, [for my taste, in any case]
I can't believe what passes as drink nowadays. I say, may as well get your corn stills happeng. At least there would be quality control.

"like the inside of a vinyl doggy toy".. That about sums it up, perfectly.

But I digress, this is about a birthday! Happy Birthday to the wonder "dirty bird" stavros, uh, you know...

In honor of my second-to-last day of work (and thus second-to-last day hanging out all day at 9622), here I am going on with my bad goth self.

Bend over, Wonderchicken! It's time for the birthday pain.

mmmm...Witchstone with handcuffs. And whip.

Our loss is San Diego's gain.

Group Not Amused by Monkey Spoof Website

(phew...for a moment there, I thought they were talking about, y'know, us.)

Damn, I wish we had "a leafy, comfortable workspace."

On another note, I'd put that picture of Witchy on my friendster profile if I had one. Yep. *sigh*

Bend over, Wonderchicken! It's time for the birthday pain.

*Involuntarily ejaculates*

Oh. Oh my.

Wetnap, milord?

Alicesshoe, my only defense is that the Rev was very cheap. And after a few of them, so was I.

Chicken, it's been said before, but you're one lucky little slave.

[Right-click, Save As...]

aliceshoe,
not, but he listened to that song a LOT when he got out of the Marines.

As for likker, good moonshine is like nothing else. I'm always dumbfounded by people who will voluntarily drink Pumpkin Pie or Popcorn liquor, but won't try moonshine. I still have half a jar here, from one of my students. it goes down like water, burns a bit, and finishes like tequila.

wow...I've never had moonshine, though I've wanted to try it for a while. (and I was born in West Virginia and grew up in North Carolina? Y'all will revoke my hillbilly/redneck credentials.)

Pumpkin Pie or Popcorn liquor

??

That opens up a hitherto unimagined realm of dipsomaniacal delight!

I eagerly await Spaghetti Schnapps and Vegetable Beef Shooters.

Vegetable Beef Shooters?

*vomits*

This just in! Slightly *used* Vegetable Beef Shooters!

Good Vegetable Beef Shooters are served at warm temperature - but GREAT Vegetable Beef Shooters are served at body temperature!

Shhh, don't tell Jon.

I had moonshine.

A freind of mine brought it back from a trip. It tastes as nasty as you'd imagine. I drank it while eating Squirrel mints and listening to Johnny Paycheck for atmosphere.

ah, but have you had Spaghetti Schnapps and Vegetable Beef Shooters?

(It wouldn't surprise me if you had.)

I had schnapps once and I passed out at a bus stop with my head on the curb and the rest of me in the street, and the bottle cradled in my arms.

The operative word in that sentence is "once."

I passed out at a bus stop with my head on the curb and the rest of me in the street, and the bottle cradled in my arms.

I think that makes you an honorary New Yorker.

What a proud moment!

{Thom with drooling mouth}
[numbed mouth] Jsst ad n opun mowthh luncsh at ta dentisst owffiss; ad a schipped tuff flled; thout I'D shhare my pain ess druul ithh yoo awl.[/numbed mouth]
Now for me to stop drooling, and remedies for a case of wide-open-mouth numbness?

Yes, Virginia, there really is a Pumkin Pie liquor. It's great when you want to hurl - not really good for anything else.

Despite my rather urban upbringing, I've had a number of homegrown intoxicants. They've ranged from good (the aforementioned moonshine) to trandscendent (some spicy homebrew from Eastern Europe) to foul (slivowische from the Czech Republic). The funnest drunk I've had was on the moonshine, though - 3/4 of a flask on top of 6 or eight beers at Mardi Gras a couple years ago. I was taken to a bar after that, where the bartenders helped me sober up.

hope your days (and nights) have been improving, Stav!

Belated birthday poo-flinging and all that jazz, stav.

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