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Great pic, Miguel.

Happy Birthday, jon! And many, many, more.

happy birfday jon

Great pic indeed. If it fell to me to start the birthday thread, I was gonna use either this or this:

...but Alice is way better.

So, happy birthday, dude. May all your Pocky be masculine and all your Mars Bars be deep-fried.

oh, and Administrator? I can't get the little bold/ital/link buttons to work. FYI. (...and I can't do an inline image using [img src] either. Hope!)

Heart/spleen/liver transplant? I can get you a good deal on some slightly used blood. As soon as Keith Richards is done with it, of course.

Happy b-day, Sir Jon of Mc.

This is a "happy birthday jonmc" thread and no one has offered up one of these?

Jon, when it comes to living clean and hard, you are my personal Rollins. Minus all the bad poetry, natch.

Of course, I wish nothing more than that you keep on keeping on, O little rocker dude. May your ass always be bad, and may you never, ever again be more fried than your next twinkie.

Oh. What's a toocher?

Happy Birthday, jon.

I invented toocher just for the rhyme, reckoning no one would call me on it, but trust the dreaded Chico to expose my pitiful ass.

It means "cheeks", Cheeko, just as "moocher" means mouth! :)

(No, I'm sorry, old codger, it does not mean todger, i.e. the peculiarly English and nursery-time variety of penis.)

Thirty-three, the crucifying year!

Ooops, I mean, have a great birthday, jonmc, and good luck in the year ahead. Watch out for nails.

*cues Chase is Better Than the Catch*

*rocks out*

Have a great one, jon.

I wore plaid today, and I'm gonna say it's in your honor.

Cheers, mon.

Watch out for nails.

And the Jews, of course.

*Ouch!* Stop hitting me.

Happy Birthday, jonmc! Lemme get you a cannoli!

Happy Birthday dude.

Happy birthday, Jon. Why not surprise yourself with some wheat germ today?

He's on the wagon, not completely granola, kaf.

Happy Birthday, Jon!

[cues Dead Milkmen]
Happy Bitch'n Birthday!
That’s cool Jon you're 33 in 2003 too, imho the best two digit age a dude may proclaim about themselves. Salute you with my lunch: a double turkey/cranberry sandwich...cheers to your years!

Blimey, brother Jon, I just realized you're a year younger than my wife. And she's junge! So cheer up! But still: although you're undoubtedly uglier, less refined and in worse condition, I was still kind of wondering whether, you know, you'd be available... :)

jonmc: intriguing nascent homosexuals since 1988.

Happy Birthday! And many more.

although you're undoubtedly uglier, less refined and in worse condition,
Well, his year can only go uphill from here!
*birthday hug for jon*

best two digit age a dude may proclaim about themselves.
don't think your schizophrenic ...himself: must have been thinking of the younger Jon, double fisted;p

Happy Birthday, jon. May your birthday cake be deep-fried.

Where the hell is he? I'm worried! Jon, please check in and reassure your sixy buddies!

Oh, poo. I'm far too chemically relaxed to photoplop something up right now, but I am listening to pre-1980 ACDC so that's gotta count for something, rihgt?

Happy happy, Jon, amigo. You are my non-evil twin, and if you stay off the wagon, you better hop back on that fucker if I ever do show up in Amerka, at least long enough to getdrunk with me before they throw me into Guantanamo for threatenign to skull fuck George Bush's verbs and sell his nouns to the yangban.

What?

YAAAAAAA-hey!

~cowbell~

*bangs head*

*farts a bit, surreptitiously*

Rock!

Is this a fuckin' party or a fuckin' sermon? *smashes blutarski-esque beer bottle on forehead, grins and mugs fetchingly*

Jon's getting dental work today, so it may be a while before he feels up to checking out the monkeyhouse. But we had lunch yesterday (swanky Midtown place meets Jonmc & Vidiot -- it was like that scene in Blues Brothers...."How much for the little girl?") and he said he did appreciate the birthday wishes. (Well, he mumbled something into his lemonade about it before returning to a discussion of Rainbow's various vocalists, but still.)

P.S.: Y'know, supporting him in his decision might not be a bad idea...

I'm here folks, and thank you all for the wonderful birthday wishes. I did have a wonderful lunch with Vidiot at the swank joint in midtown. People probably thought I was being taken out by my parole officer. But thank you for the tuna and purple potatoes, faithful sidekick.

After that I ambled downtown to Kim's Music and Video where I bought meself a couple of cds and a book. Then I met up with the Mrs. for a nice Cuban Dinner on the Upper West Side. Then we went down to Rockefeller Center for the tree lighting, where we were elbowed around behind police barricades by other crazy Noo Yawkers. One kid attempted to part the crowd by screaming, "Lemme through, I gotta take a shit!" to which I retorted, "Well, you're wearing a hat, motherfucker."

Then I ambled home and fell into bed, from which I am just rising now. I do indeed have a dental appointment later, where I will most probably have a tooth pulled. Help me mommy.

Isn't that an odd menu - mix of Cuban/Chinese?

Castro's gastronomic salute to Mao, maybe.

I'm sorry I'm belatedly doing that birthday thang--the hub's birthday is the day before, and we were outta town.

But may the music in the headphones at the dentist be rockin,' the pain insignificant, the drugs soothing, and the sockets not dry. Having been to the dentist for many horrible things, these are the best wishes I can come up with!

Yay, birthday!

Isn't that an odd menu - mix of Cuban/Chinese?

I dunno, that's the theme of our bedroom.

No, really.

Whaddaya mean, readymade? Lotsa armed guards, barbed wire, people on inflatable rafts floating away from the bed and an old bearded man with a cigar calling all the shots? that kinda thing?

Damn, readymade's bedroom is JUST like mine, then.

(Work that Che Guevara maternity dress!)

Actually, my godparents are Cuban-Chinese. It's not as uncommon as one would think.

And I need to add, "Well, you're wearing a hat, motherfucker," may be my new favoritest line ever.

True Dat, c_s. My freind Leticia in Miami was Cuban/Chinese/African-American and a girl once dumped me for a Vietnamese/Puerto Rican guy.

Oddly, the waiters at La Caridad were all Chinese but most people were eating the Cuban grub. We had deviled shrimp, rice & beans, fried plantains and yucca with garlic.Twas quite tasty.

Let us not forget the immortal words of Tom Waits:

He bought a second-hand Nova
from a Cuban Chinese
And dyed his hair
in the bathroom of a Texaco

Tangentially, these immortal words are echoed in Sparklehorse's "Maria's Little Elbows" in the lines:

I bet you're out there getting drunk with all your friends
and it'll get you in the bathroom of a Texaco

And just to add some special music geekery for Jon's birthday thread, the immediately previous lines of the Sparklehorse song:

she said 'I've really come to hate my body
and all the things that it requires in this world'

are a reference to the Velvet Underground song "Candy Says":

Candy says I've come to hate my body
and all that it requires in this world
Candy says I'd like to know completely
what others so discreetly talk about

I feel dirty now.

Oddly enough, I knew that Peruvian food had Oriental influences. It just seems less likely that Cuba would, geographically anyway.

I feel dirty now.
Yeah, but I feel like a food bigot.

tizze's, link does not work for me???.

I think I screwed it up. Let's try again.

tizze's, link does not work for me???.

My hovercraft is full of eels.

Work that Che Guevara maternity dress!

Last year my husband and I threw a Cuban-themed anniversary party, complete with Che banner and Cuban flag, fake banana trees, Cuban food and lots of tropical drinks (gigantic fruity drink mixer here, pre-party)....so I had a lot of Cuban detritus left over.

Then the guest bedroom became the Cuban room, with Che lording over the bed and the Cuban flag waving proudly. That same room has morphed into kid's room, and while I didn't feel quite right about the Che banner waving over the changing table, somehow the Cuban flag remains over the crib.

So while I would wear that Che dress if I had it, the kid is already getting a little political lesson...

I'm full of ills.

My nipples explode with delight.

I am not a cinema.

I will not buy this record, it is scratched.

OK! OK!

Please fondle my buttocks.

(It was inevitable)

Also, I just returned from the dentist where I indeed had a wisdom tooth yanked, My mouth is fulla bloody gauze. But It's done with at least. It hurt less than the root canal frankly.

Whoa -- happy birthday, Jon! :)

* rawk! rawk! *

I wish to buy a postage stamp. Could you please direct me to the nearest post office? Thank you. Oh yeah? Well, fuck you too, pal.

I take it that the above means that Miguel is moving to New York?

I laughed and laughed when I read that "I will not buy this record, it is scratched" sentence, Sam!

Well, fuck you too, pal.
maybe not if the "pal":personal ass licker;P

I will not buy this tobacconist's, it is scratched.

Too bad witchy missed this...

(About half-way down. Don't know how to link to a specific comment.)

Ha ha - thanks, Sam. You know you're getting on a bit when you start re-reading Python sketches and every word is fresh and new. An advantage, I suppose.

When I was a young pup I thought the intelectuals' talk about "re-reading Kafka's The Castle this summer" - was just a pretentious way of saying they were finally going to get round to reading the damn thing.

Now I'm a re-reader too. Except Elmore Leonard - bastard sticks in the mind; that thrill only to be had the first time.

There is something wrong with this steel tariff, it is fishy. ;)

Do you WAAAAAN to go back to my place, bouncy-bouncy?

Drop your panties, Sir William; I cannot wait 'til lunchtime.

Of course. I re-read things all the time, which is great when you have a crummy memory. (Nothing so august as Kafka, though.)

Although, I keep buying used copies of various mysteries and not realizing that I've already read them until I'm a chapter in. I usually only have a hazy idea of whom the villain is, so it doesn't usually turn out to be too much of a spoiler. Why keep books and build up a vast library if you don't re-read? (Anyone want to give me money to rent a bigger apartment? I need space for all my books and CDs.)

Sam: my younger brother is one of the head honchos of the Port of Lisbon. This means he gets to dispose of miles and miles of magnificent river-front warehouses which have recently been turned into hundreds of restaurants and clubs.

At one point, going mad with all my books (my great grandfather's, grandfather's and father's library is 80,000 volumes strong) I decided to rent this ginormous warehouse (you would probably call it a loft, but it's much bigger) just so I could live with the damn books - I have about 10,000 of my own. My dream was to cycle from the front gate to my bed.

Anyway, I stayed a month. God, it was DAMP. To air-condition that hangar you'd need many thousand dollars, not to mention upkeep. And it was MISERABLE too. Very romantic, though. So I never moved the books in and left very glad to leave.

It's difficult to be moderne, was my conclusion. Better to live in a crowded house than have the awful luxury of real open space, believe me!

But if you're interested...lovely view...lotsa chicks...lotsa room... ;)

Sounds great, but I bet it's a hell of a commute to my job in Midtown Manhattan. ;-)

And I just sold my (teeny) condo in Atlanta a couple of weeks ago and don't really feel like entering into another real-estate entanglement soon. (I should, to avoid taxes, but I'm not sure what, if anything, I can afford to buy in NYC. Sigh.)

Hell, vidiot thinks he's got problems. I need to work out somekinda shelving solution for my music collection here in this tiny computer room. The biggest problem in the variety of media involved. I'm considering going the cinderblock and 2 x 4 route again. Any carpenter monkeys among the Noo Yawk crew?

ONE wisdom tooth? Thassit? What about the other 3?

I had all 4 removed at the same time, under local. The reason? They dentist figured "at some point" they'd have to come out, and I decided to do it while I was still on my dad's extended health plan so it was totally free. I was a uni student. I was broke. I figured I'd get some kind of sedative. I was wrong.

Don't do what I did. And don't plan to do it when your mom is away and your dad's idea of helping is giving you the cat in an effort to cheer your codeine-addled-brain up.

I laughed like a loon when I came outta the demerol skin-pop they gave me when they yanked out my tusks. It was heap big fun.

Also ; How much'd one'a them warehouses run me, Miguel? No, seriously.

About $2000 a month, Stav - but they're very, very big. Like two football fields. And one electric socket.

Plus it's harder to get drunk if there's an echo every time the ice cubes clink.

Wouldn't it be a riot, though? The wonderchicken with a whole battery farm all to himself! :)

jon, I feel your pain. (Though the influence of my mother's genetics compels me to remind you that it would've been *so* much easier had you done it when you were 18 like you were supposed to. ;-) Remember, no drinking through straws!

And don't undermedicate.

salmonberry, I, too, only got local anaesthetic when I had my wisdom teeth yanked. Thank goodness, because otherwise I'd have slept through the part where the oral surgeon was bracing one foot on the side of my chair like a lumberjack, cursing and sweating and yanking like he couldn't start his chainsaw.

I got Tylenol 3 for my troubles, and screamed and drooled in agony while waiting for my father to come home from the pharmacy. He did rent my two favorite movies (at the time, Bad Lieutenant and Reservoir Dogs) for me, which was nice.

Oh, and readymade: I was at a children's boutique last week, shopping for a baby shower, and was *thisclose* to buying an olive drab onesie with Che Guevara's face emblazoned on it. I decided against it, though, you know, if you're interested...

My experience was remarkably similar to yours except replace "dad" with "unsympathetic first husband who left me home alone and went to a party."

Bleah.

The Bad Lieutenant is still in my top 10 favorite movies and probably always will be.

Stav: Roomies in Miguel's Warehouse of Books? I'll bring some candles, a couple liters of Absolut, a big-ass extension cord with a nine-plug adapter at the end, and the thou for my half of this month's rent. You bring a dozen of those really nice tooled leather bookmarks, carton of Reds, and, uh, couple-three chicks. Deal?

I just bet that Miguel's (soon: Fes and Stav's) Warehouse of Books has really superb takeout nearby.

I wasn't in too much agony when my bottom two wisdom teeth came out, but I'm glad I had a local. Because my bottom left one apparently had an extra root (that didn't show up on the x-rays) that went under two other teeth and hooked up at the end. I remember my head lolling around on the chair's headrest while my dentist tried (in vain) to yank the sucker out. He eventually had to drill it into six pieces and extract the chips individually. But I was all Novocained up and didn't feel a thing. (No dentist has ever given me gas. I feel cheated.)

My mother drove me home and stopped at a grocery store on the way to pick up my Percocet prescription, so I could take a pill before the Novocaine wore off. I waited in the car, and apparently she decided to do some grocery shopping while I was there...great, except that the Novocaine was starting to wear off while she shopped, and the pain was starting to poke through the numbness. So I got out of the car and went into the store to find her.

I walked into the store and immediately spotted her at one of the checkouts, where she was paying for a huge amount of groceries. The cashier looked up, winced, and went completely pale. My mother said in a tight, even voice, "Go to the bathroom over there. Do it now." I was confused, but went over to the bathroom and looked in the mirror.

I looked like I'd been the victim of an especially sloppy ax murder -- bloody drool completely covered my white T-shirt, and I hadn't felt it run down my chin because of all the Novocaine.

True story...

Warehouse party in Lisbon!

My wisdom tooth story is a mish-mash of everyone else's. All four were removed my senior year pretty much just because it'd have to be done some day and I wanted to get it done before I went in the military.* I was fully sedated, which is nowhere near as cool as it sounds. I have a very clear memory of coming out of the sedation during the operation and having the surgeon say, "Shit! He's coming out of it!" I dry heaved a lot on the way home and, because my family apparently was part of the Mengele HMO, I didn't get any perscription painkillers.

* And it's a damn good thing I did have them pulled before going in the Navy. They went wisdom teeth happy on all the recruits who hadn't had them pulled yet. Imagine a barracks full of about 30 of Vidiot's blood-drooling ax murder victims.

9622.net: Vidiot's blood-drooling ax murder victims.

(I'm so proud.)

One cool thing resulting from wisdom tooth extraction - your jaw may make REALLY LOUD popping noises when you yawn. I mean, like gunshot loud. Neighbor-detectable loud.

They kind of sound, in your head, like a 1/4 to 1/2 inch stick snapping in half. Occasionally, a really solid one will be followed with a brief period of mild lightheadedness, maybe five seconds or so.

Mother nature is a MAD scientist!

Well, last time I had major dental work, I was given Percocet which I enjoyed immensley. But this time I specifically asked for something non narcotic and I can get Motrin if I want. But truth be told the pain was a lot worse before it was pulled. They showed me the tooth after it came out. Long ass roots, it looked like a tusk, but it had big nasty blackcavity in it which was what was giving me the pain.

Also, it's a snowin' in New York today. astoria looks awful purty.

Oh yeah, I was awake for the whole thing yesterday too. And I walked home down Ditmars Boulevard spiiting puddles of blood in my wake.

I got nitrous once. It actually made me feel kind strange so I made them stop. I had a freind back in my bookstore days who carried tanks of nitrous all the time and once did one as we drove past the local police station in my car. She also seemed to subsist on fat-free pretzels and coca-cola (and pot and beerand whatever else she was on) She almost moved in with us at one point, when we picked her up one day she was hanging out with her some loser covered in jailhouse tats down in the projects in the South End , we began to have second thoughts. Thank goodness.

I got twelve Novocaine shots on the last two wisdom teeth. That was fun.

But yeah, the sensation of someone pulling out part of your skull is no picnic. Afterwards, there was Vicodin. Sweet, sweet Vicodin.

Ah, tooth stories. I'll bet none of you got herpes from your dentist. HA! Beat that!

No, seriously. Wisdom teeth came out, I got a terrible infection, and then quite out of the blue I got these huge seeping sores on my mouth. WOWSERS! Thanks, doc, for not washing your hands between victims-er-patients.

And c_s, da-yum, that is the coolest onesie I've heard of yet, except for the punk rock "Anarchy in the Pre-K" one that I keep hoping will show up in the mail.

Wow, readymade, and I thought you were kidding.

Happy day, jon!

Why is it that all the monkeys do their screeching when I'm not around?

I still have all the teeth that came from the factory, though the bottom wisdom teeth are almost completely erupted. My jaw makes cool noises anyway.

My tooth story is this: I had braces for soemthing like six years. (and after ten years, I can still pop in my retainers w/ no problem). I was given a permanent bottom retainer - little metal bar that fits behind my lower teeth and is welded to bands on my eye teeth. I was out mountain-biking in Vail one year, and took a path that was certainly not made for mountain bikes.
You've heard of the phrase "face plant" for a bad sports fall? Well, it wasn't a plant but rather a mossy rock. My hands didn't get a chance to break my fall, and I landed squarely on my mouth. One corner of my lip *extruded* through my teeth. But the teeth stayed put - not a loose one in the bunch. As i rode the rest of the way down the mountain to the ER (I kept on the fire roads, and was doing, like, 40 and enjoying the rush of adrenaline from the fall), people called out to me, "do you know you're bleeding?" I'd spit out a mouthful of blood - plbthhh! and respond in the affirmative.

I'm all for a private library in Lisbon. Migs, can you double that order on cute girls and wine?

That is better than my (literal) run to the emergency room with my nearly-detached thumb hanging from my hand.

I didn't faint till I got there.

I don't remember my wisdom teeth being extracted, or the two days following the extraction.

I was OUT.

I've actually had a lot of tooth mishaps. When I was five I was jumping on the bed and fell to the floor, knocking out two teeth, forcing me to wear a metal space maintainer for 2 years*. Then around age 11, when I had braces, I attempted to do a backflip of a stone wall and landed squarely on my upper lip, resulting in much bloodflow and an emergency trip to the orthodontist. Then in high school, I was in a quarrel with a freind who sucker punched me in the jaw, knocking two front teeth an inch back into my jaw. Two of my more muscular associates hustled me to the school nurse before I could react, but the mouth was repaired. Since then all my dental mishaps were neglect, rather than abuse related.

*a few years before that around age 4, I was with my mom visting a freind when she shooed me, telling me to go play in the garage where I tripped and fell face first on to a lawnmower, resulting in two black eyes and a broken nose (still slightly bent to this day). I'm amazed I was allowed out of the house without a helmet and a foam rubber suit.

Stav: Roomies in Miguel's Warehouse of Books? I'll bring some candles, a couple liters of Absolut, a big-ass extension cord with a nine-plug adapter at the end, and the thou for my half of this month's rent. You bring a dozen of those really nice tooled leather bookmarks, carton of Reds, and, uh, couple-three chicks. Deal?

I am soooo in.

WOuldn't that be fun if we could all line up like a month or 6 sometime, and just kind of have a rotating monkeyparty, with Migs the congenial local hookup for all our hardcore cocktail and literature needs?

Oh yeah.

*dreams*

Also, J-Po, is MT-sanitize set to clean strikethrough tags? Poop!

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