A Special Cinco De Mayo Greeting From Cement Bird

Cement Bird, as some of you might remember, can only communicate through shitty FWD emails.


----- Forwarded Message ----
From: Ron
To: Undisclosed-Recipient@yahoo.com
Sent: Tue, December 15, 2009 1:24:05 AM
Subject: Fw: [Fwd: Fw: Obituary YOU MUST READ THIS!!!!!]





Find Out How You Can Start Making $6487 a Month At HOME

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Okay... I appreciate the preachy FWD, Cement Bird. But your timing sucks on two counts: it's two weeks past Easter, and Osama Bin Laden just died, so are you sure you want to throw out an obituary so close to that news? Just sayin'.

Oh, also, you misspelled "Jerusalem."

Soundtrack Review

The thing that's so wonderful about the motion picture score of the midlife relationship dramedy "Last Chance Harvey" is that it helps move the story along without stepping on the subtle performance of the cast.

Light and breezy, the compositions are short piano progressions with a layer of strings that creates an expressive yet playful background to Dustin Hoffman and Emma Thompson's excellent work.

Possibly the most remarkable fact about this score is that it's a first time score for former UK band Tinkersticks founder Dickon Hinchliffe who blends...Whoa. Ha ha ha ha. Is that really his name? Seriously? You're kidding, right? That's really his name? Ha ha ha ha ha ha. Ha ha ha ha ha ha.

Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha. Ha ha hahaha ha ha hahahaha.

Hahahahaha ha ha ha haha haahaha ha ha ha. *Cough* Ha hahahahah ha ha ha ha hahah hahaha hahaha hahah ha hahaha. Ha haha! HAHAHAHAHAH!

Oh Jesus. Oh, my sides. Hurts. Hah ha ha ha. Hahahahahaha. Hahahaha. Dickon Hinchliffe. Hhahahhahahahahaa. Ha ha hahahahaha! Oh, God. Where's my water.

Ticketmaster thinks I am a Red Hat Society member.

Ticketmaster sent me this email today:

Like, what the fuck? I haven't listened to Debbie Reynolds in like, I dunno, like 2 weeks or something. And that CATS original cast soundtrack may be in the CD changer, but it's not like I've cranked it lately. Not really. Not loud.

Memories...

A photo from Saturday night.

(pictured above, Dan Donnelly performs at the Stone Street Historical District Oyster Festival while three unknown patrons throw oyster shells at his eyes and finger his girlfriend)

Fictionalization-a-rama!

The following is a totally made-up account based on the information given by this flyer:


Last Saturday, Joel flew out to New York to hang out with me and to enjoy the STONE STREET HISTORICAL DISTRICT OYSTER FESTIVAL that he's been hearing about for years. He had pawned his Nordic Track, refrigerator and his chimp servant's chimp-sized ATV to afford a plane ticket on such short notice. But he felt it was worth it to finally try the festival's famed FRESHLY SHUCKED OYSTERS and PERFECT PINTS OF GUINNESS. Joel had taken an extremely early flight to give him enough time to land, get his bearings, and cab it to the financial district by NOON, which was when THE FUN BEGINS.

And sure enough, he met me and my co-worker Barry between the two hosts of the event, ULYSSES' and HARRY'S. Crowds were starting to form already between STONE STREET AND MILL LANE– police had to cordon off the area to allow more foot traffic. Greta, a friendly woman in her forties, collected our $30, checked our ID's and gave us wrist bands. We thanked her, but she was too busy singing along to CHRIS BYRNE'S SEANCHAI & THE UNITY SQUAD, who were 10 minutes into their unique punk/funk Celtic hip-hop set.

Band website

A flip of a coin, and we three entered Harry's to start off with some CHAMPAGNE AND RIESLING. The main bar was too crowded, and no tables were available, so we huddled by the Golden Tee machine and toasted to the good life. A smelly dude with the teeth of a pirate was playing the game and seemed irked by where we were standing. Barry's elbow kept brushing against his, and it was affecting his drive. The dude intentionally spilled Barry's RIESLING.

The two eventually got into a shoving match while Joel ordered a round of HARP & SMITHWICK'S. Joel diffused the situation by eating the guy's dick, which gave Barry enough time to go outside and cool off. Barry was upset but also shocked at seeing Joel's knack for eating cock. I explained to him that Joel has changed a lot since Portfolio Center.

We went over to ULYSSES' to get our first dozen oysters and to check out MILO Z and LUNASA. They totally blew ass, so we decided to go back to HARRY'S and brave the hostility of the smelly dude. It was 1:30 by this time, and we hadn't eaten a single oyster yet. Only Joel was full (cock).

A harried waitress plopped platters of FRESHLY SHUCKED OYSTERS at the table we had finally snagged, and the feasting began. Joel spilled cocktail sauce all over his camo cargo shorts. Barry was on his third platter after 20 minutes.

Then the band started. In a predictable twist of plot, it was the smelly Golden Tee dude singing on stage! He turned out to be DAN DONNELLY, and he totally fucking sucked. Barry, Joel, and I booed all through his set, throwing oyster shells at his eyes and fingering his girlfriend (that wasn't me).

We drank and harangued and pissed ALL NIGHT. Barry lost his wallet in the women's toilet, and I found a lantern. Score!

Dan Donnelly's shitty website