New Music From The CheeseBergens

Hey! I’ve been away for quite some time and I probably won’t be coming back on a regular basis any time soon. I’m just here for shameless self promotion.

Even though I am coming up on 50, I am still actively making a fool of myself performing in my family band The CheeseBergens. In fact, we have just released a new album and if you could take a listen, it would mean the world to me.

You can download the album for free at our Bandcamp link.

We also have a lyric video below. morecheeseplease (2)

Photobombed In Brooklyn

Archie hated people. He didn’t want to talk to them, he didn’t want to live with them, and he certainly didn’t want to work with them. As a result, he shunned society by living in a cardboard box under the L on 86th St. in Brooklyn, and that suited him just fine.

One day, when Archie was out scavenging for food, he caught sight of Alice. He wasn’t sure what it was about Alice…perhaps the disproportionate amount of doughy flesh on the backsides of her arms, but she reminded him of his dear mama who he’d last seen when she told him he was birthed in a dumpster in the back of the Coney Island AppleBees. That was right before she ran off with Mario from Mario’s Pizza and Doughnuts on the M75 to fulfill her dreams of becoming the Donut Queen of Long Island. But in any case, his heart, which he hertofore had dismissed as no longer capable of doing much more than keeping him alive, albeit in the flimsiest of manners, skipped a beat. He felt an undeniable urge to bond with this human Alice of the Fleshy Arms and he began running towards her.

It just so happened that¬†Alice was just in the middle of snapping a picture with her cousin Mavis who she hadn’t seen in a dog’s age (her words not mine). Archie came close but never did quite make it to Alice, who he was hoping to embrace, by the time the picture was taken.

Now, unbeknownst to Archie, Alice was on the the tail end of a 15 minute bout of fame spurred when a Youtube video of her laughing maniacally at a wind up parakeet that shouted out swear words in Chinese somehow went viral.

Also unbeknownst to Archie, the photo of her and Mavis would end up on Alice’s Facebook page bearing the caption #photobombedinbrooklyn.

So while this picture of Archie photobombing Alice was getting shared, tweeted and retweeted, Archie’s heart strings were still acting up. He hence ended up photobombing many, including a man who’s balding pate recalled memories of his favorite uncle, Heroin Harry and a particularly photogenic chihuahua who reminded him of the feral cat who used to claw through his dumpsters til old ma threw a shoe at it.

So Archie’s fame rose in social media circles by fans who called him Photobombing Phil, (because they didn’t know his name was Archie) and all sorts started to line up on 86th St. outside Archie’s cardboard box, taking photos that they hoped Archie would photobomb. The masses included washed up actresses wishing to revamp their careers, hipsters who found Phil delightfully ironic and debutantes who decided being Photobombed by Archie would be the height of slumming it. There were even some who brought their sick relatives believing Archie had strange and magical healing powers. Bootleggers sold shirts that said things like I Got Photobombed in Brooklyn and I Took A Still With Phil!

But all efforts were in vain as Archie soon decided that his misadventures were due to telepathic messages coming to his brain through iPhone batteries as well as a bad case of acid reflux from the subway fumes. So Archie decided to relocate to an abandoned industrial warehouse in Williamsburg were he was killed in an unfortunate accident involving a button holing machine he wrongly assumed was inoperative. His body was never found.

This is a picture of me and my cousin with my kids in Brooklyn getting photobombed. It inspired the blog which is otherwise fictionalized and, no, my cousin does not have disproportionately fleshy arms.

This is a picture of me and my cousin with my kids in Brooklyn getting photobombed. It inspired the blog which is otherwise fictionalized and, no, my cousin does not have disproportionately fleshy arms.

When Millenials Rule the World

Somewhere in Iraq, March 28, 2035 9:56 AM PST

The head of ISIL is discovered
On the button his hand hovers
Advisors ask him “Are you sure?”
As sweat comes out of every pore
He says “The weak make second guesses”
And so fateful, down he presses
With nothing left he must await
Reaction from United States

Washington D.C., March 28, 2035 10:04 AM PST

We find our leader in good health he
Photoshops his morning selfie
Erases wrinkles in his neck
When suddenly he gets a text

He can’t believe what he is seeing
And so he calls for a staff meeting
And so his people come abounding
For the news he is announcing

ISIL sent the atom bomb
In form of an emoticon
No one really had a clue
As to the next thing they should do

Till one suggested that perchance
They ask the President of France
So logical it seemed that next
That they should send to him a text

And so they sent it right away
And waited on what he would say
And by the phone they sat absorbed
Till they got back “That’s totes adorbs!”

They texted back “About the bomb”
Got “Sorry, was meant for my mom!
But don’t worry I got your text
And think I know what to do next

As serious as this all looks
You should unfriend him on Facebook
Or maybe it’s got to the stage
To troll him on his Youtube page

Or maybe something like this calls
For a mean game of volleyball
‘Cept this time there’s a winning team
And only they will get ice cream”

“France I like how your mind works
But the truth is I’m really hurt”
“Well U.S. if that’s the deal
Then call and tell him how you feel”

“Forgive me while I am digesting
What you seem to be suggesting
Me the leader of the nation
Having a phone conversation?

Does anyone still do that now
Don’t think I can remember how
Plus he won’t pick up at all
You know he prob’ly screens his calls”

“You’re right, forgive my impudence
It’s utterly ridiculous
The only thing that can be done
Is if you bring out the big guns”

“Oh no surely you can’t mean…”
“Oh yes, go to your iPhone screen!”
And so with a mind for revenge
The leader types in and hits send

And so he is up to the challenge
America’s fate in the balance
So eagerly he does await
The answer to his frowny face

A poem inspired by a blog by Phil Taylor Hey Millenials! WTF Are You Gonna Do?

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The Man Crush

What’s up with the man crush? First of all, let me say I am the least homophobic person on the planet, and indeed, I think the more liberal America has become, the more okay they are with the man crush. However, I am not okay with the man crush!!

When men crush, they crush hard. They wrestle each other, they exchange adorable witticisms, and to be sure, they act, well not really adorable at all.

Maybe I am just bitter and jealous of my husband’s current man crush. The two exchange witty banter on Facebook ad nauseam, and I am really tempted to add my comment, “Why don’t you guys just get a room already?”

When my son did his latest School of Rock performance, Man Crush came. He did not sit at our table but hovered by the bar sending drinks over to my husband. I guess he did not want our ‘fierce competitiveness’ to get in the way of his good time.

Of course my husband spent a good portion of the afternoon at the bar entertaining Man Crush. My daughter kept asking me, “Where’s daddy?’ to which I answered, ” At the bar making out with Brian.”

Today is Valentine’s Day. My husband posted a very nice comment to me on Facebook along with a YouTube link to a Paul Westerberg song. I thought this was all very nice and sweet, and commented in that vain, ¬†but I did wonder, why Paul Westerberg? I don’t really like Paul Westerberg. Within minutes I say that Guy Crush commented on the post as well. ‘Paul Westerberg, awesome,’ he said. Ah, it is all becoming clear to me now!

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