A Preview of Things to Come

Thanks for the shout-out, Marfs. I have always viewed scrapbooking as a pure art expression, rather than just sticking a bunch of crap into a book. I mean, it's that too, but it's also a communion with the All Power, you know? I've got this new technique with glitter! You've got to see. Anyway, our new ghost tour is really great. I'm having a blast. It's made me think of an awesome spin-off solo show. I know! I know! I'm always discussing my solo work. But think about it: Everything we do as a band is just prologue to my solo work. So it only makes sense that I would be inspired to create personal projects, and talk incessantly in a passive-aggressive way about how I'm going to split from the band and work alone. Ya'll should respect that. I'm the great one in this band. I'm the one with "The Future", as the psychic lady told me. Ya'll believe in that psychic lady as much as I do. So how do you explain her prophetic words : "Ooh, Henry, you're the best!"? Last I checked, the word 'best' means 'better than those around him'. I don't think I need to spell out who those particular individuals are (I can't resist: M.A.R.F.A. and W.O.R.T.H.I.E.S.). What was I talking about before I had to play the psychic lady card? Oh yeah, my solo work. I'm thinking of calling my next album, "I'm not Worthy". You know, like a pun on the fact that I'm split from the band. Except I'm going to cross out the "not" and have a photo of me looking all self-assured, like I've changed my mind. My other idea is along the lines of our current tour. Check this out: "The Rabbi Wore a Deathly Pale Face". Perfection. Yes, it will be folky. Yes, I will employ a 12-member percussion-exclusive all-female punk band. No, I will not have Janet Jackson in my video. But does she have any kids? I'd love to get a child of Janet Jackson. Yes, I will sing in falsetto. This is my new trademark. I have received a lot of positive feedback - Not all of it bad! Some people really do think it sounds masculine. Just because these people don't know what the word masculine means and think it's a drug and come up to me and ask, "Are you on masculine?!", and I take that to mean they are complimenting my awesome new singing voice, that doesn't mean, um, anything! Yeah. Well, I'd better go "scrap" out some books. Enjoy the rock shows. And remember: It's going to get a Whole Lot Better once I start fronting my own group and ditch Barfa and the UnWorthies. Bye, fans! See you when I see you.

Juuuuuuu-uuuu-uuuuuuuu-liiiii-ooooooohhh-oooooooo

WOw! wow. I can't even begin to tell you where I've been. Let me take a breather. whew. okay. Now.

SO, yeah, fans! It was hysterical - you should have seen Henry trying to see where we were at, cuz, hey we were incorporeal! The big H did pull through, big-time, though, because he got out the ol' 4-track and the psychics and we laid down our ghostly new LP, entitled 'plasma paranormale.' It's got the previously mentioned indie eerie emo feelie, along with some latin flavor (turns out, The Other Side has some amazing transparent maracas).

I believe Rosh Hashana is the new year. I'm not sure if gifts are given, but people usually eat something sweet, like apples with nuts and honey for a "sweet new year". Also recently, it was Yom Kippur, the day of atonement and reconciliation. It's nice that Judaism bundles those two up together, kind of like when you bundle up firewood with smaller bits of wood that will help the larger parts burn to make a nice warm fire. Come to think of it, you guys in the woods (woods-fans we call you) could use your sport-fishing magazines as kindling. Oh right, I forgot! You only have computers. Well, I believe silicone chips burn like no other! And then you can make s'mores over pixels. That's a nice vision.

So yeah, after the materialization, I ended up in Tierra del Fuego (I was dropped from 10 feet in the sky), and then I had to hitchhike my way back to Portland, where we're chilling for a while before heading out to tour 'plasma paranormale'. Brink out yr sheetz w/holez cut out y'all.

Peaches and prosperity,

Marfa

PS-Henry has gotten truly amazing at scrapbooking. Check out his work, featured in the book below. Congrats, Hen-hen!

Hi fans...

As you can probably tell, our band's totally run into the ground. I don't mean that literally. I do mean this literally, however: Everybody disappeared! Like seriously. They were all standing in front of me and then there was ZAP and they all went invisible. I could hear them moving around and stuff (even a couple titterings), but they wouldn't respond to anything I said. I think they entered the SPIRIT WORLD. I'm thinking about getting a seance started up and seeing if we can record the next album via a medium or something. It should give the next record a sort of indie eerie emo feel. I've been working on a few solo projects while I wait for the psychic people to call me back or my bandmates rematerialize (whatever comes first). I'm putting out an album. It's a Christmas album. I should clarify: Not a record album... a photo album. Photos of me mostly. Me decorating the tree. Me singing carols. Me making a snowman. I've gotten really into scrapbooking. I make some nifty borders out of really nice lacework that my friend Betsy McMalley got! It's so much fun. She's going to teach me how to capture every precious moment of my future children's lives! Using the best compositions and quirky but creative decorations. The Memories will be 4-ever.

Oh the Farmer and the Henry Should Be Friends

Okay, peop-holes. Sorry I been long gone for so long.

I feel like I have a lot to catch you up on. The big news is... I've taken a major step in my life. It's a baby-step, but I think it will lead to many great things. I've decided to no longer move about the world via ambulation. My savior, a Dr. Haroldo Itcherberg, has devised a new method, and no it's not a "Segway". Although, I can't technically fly, if you were to take a picture of me 90% of the time, it would still look like I was floating. Yes, the most clever of you have no doubt guessed it - I now travel exclusively by trampoline. It's a little robotic one that moves around directly under me at all times. Her name is Samantha.

Being a rock star does have certain privileges. I'm sure many of wish you had the kind of money and fame to go through life spending much of it up in the air by means of repeated trampoline use. Well, I'm a living role-model to you, I'm sure. I'm proof that getting lots of fortune means you can reach the sky, or the ceiling, or at the very least, many tallish trees (I've never eaten so many coconuts!). For those of you aspiring "tramps" wanting in on the good life, keep dreaming and hoping and then eventually become a rockstar. I'm looking forward to seeing you up in the air!

What's the weather like up here, you ask? Sunny! (with a 20% chance of sleet)

I want everyone to know that my new life-style choice will in no way effect my relationship with the band. Everyone hated me already and will continue to do so. I will still play a musical instrument, and that instrument will still be called "drums" by me (and hopefully everyone else, if they know what's good for them). Our new bandmember A-Train knows how to rock and roll and is quite the Idea Man. He is planning on hooking up a theremin to a trampoline so that I can play it during concerts and in studios. I will simply jump from Samantha to the specially-rigged instrument, and then back again when I am done. You guys know what a theremin is? A person playing a theremin never comes into physical contact with it.



This is great for me because, with the exception of trampolines, I'd like not to come into contact with any physical objects at all. This means no autographs! How many times do I have to say it? And no, "not being able to hear me because I'm 10 feet above you when I say it" is not an excuse!

In other news, I did go to the farmer's convention. A-Train had the novel idea of disguising me as a woman. I still got recognized, but they all thought I was a transvestite and were a lot more polite to me after that. Either that or they were weirded out by me and Samantha. Traveling by trampoline did have its thrills. I killed at hopping over cows and things. I made rodeo clowns jealous. I even up-staged the cows! Many of the kids in the audience told me afterwards that after watching me jump over the cows they no longer liked the cows, and would not ever become farmers. I think I am doing God's work.

One last thing... Marfa: the letter you posted from CeCe "Henry" Kobravski must be a forgery. It's just not possible. I saw her with my own eyes fall over the waterfall into the abyss after our climactic duel. There's no way she could have survived. Could it be? Could it be that my arch-nemesis CeCe "Henry" Kobravski is alive?! She did mention sporks. That is her signature. Could this be a copy-cat CeCe? I will have to increase my vigilance. What CeCe doesn't realize is I have Samantha now. The advantage is mine. I can, like, fling crap at her from above. Ha!

Man Alive! Zeitgeist.

Hey Worries, I've been out in the field with my 10-foot long microphone and headphones and homophones, getting the best of the world, audio-wise. Here are some noteworthy 24K golden moments to be included on the 'wich:

-Siamese donkey brayings. (got access to the special FFA secret room)
-90-year-old man going down a slip-and-slide with the greatest of speeds and the lavendarest of Speedoes. He was in great shape. The war cry on that man!
-A fat lady sitting on a BLT. Over and over and over again.
-Playing my double bass in the Erebus Glacier Tongue, Antarctica, accompanied by the soft chatter of penguins watching the performance.

I've begun programming the sounds into some compositions for "Hey Lady Where's My Sandwich". It's total schadenfreude, or nebellicht, or heidelbeere that you wrote a song about a lady and a sandwich and I recorded the sound of a lady and a sandwich. M + W's 4-evah.

Also, Henry, I have received a letter for you in my mailbox (when are you leaving the halfway house?). Here goes:

"Dear Henry, the only Worthy that really matters,

I love you and want to be with your forever. I will hold you just like you are cradling the chicken on the cover of "It Only Hurts Part of the Time". Which, by the way, I had the other sounds removed so that I could hear only your drums. Only your drums. I do your riffs all the time in the cafeteria. I have my own table where I eat Honey Buns and tots and I don't care what Mrs.Cunt-ing-ham says, I'll play drums with my spork and butter knife all day, I don't care. Please come to the Homecoming Dance with me. I knitted a dress with your face in it. I can make you a matching suit with your face on it too. Then it would be like 3 Henrys, and that is triple heaven. I love you forever.

Love you,

CeCe "Henry" Kobravski

P.S. See? Your name is my middle name. Because I want you to be part of me all the time."

Sigh. There you go, Henry. Disturbing.

-Fraulein Marfa

No need to thank me, Community

In response to the recent letter:

Dear Mildred,
Don't have that man's baby, Mildred. That is all.
Me

Dear future Mildred's baby,
Your mother loves you. Never give up hope. I have decided your name is Bella. Mildred, if you're reading this, you know what to do. Bella means 'beauty' in some other language.
Me

Wow, that was easy. I feel like I am serving my community well.

Hey Mr. B, that was an excellent song! The one about the sandwich, I mean. You sing something like that action and I'll bang on the drums to it. And in a matter in which it was like I was born to do it. By the way, when I haven't been incarcerated, I've been working on a new "riff" that might just revolutionize our particular country's concept of the riff. When you scream "AND MAYBE A LITTLE BACON" at that one part, I plan to let rip the riff. It's going to blow beer out of people's noses, even the noses of minors. I will probably be held responsible for bringing back moshing, but I am okay with that. Let my power be felt throughout the land.

Oh, and about the Farmers... I don't think that's going to work. I have never gotten along with them, and without even trying have found ways to make them seriously hate me. I'm willing to go through with this plan, but expect some major tensions.

Doin' my time

Sorry about the drug binge I've been on and was subsequently busted for, guys. The law enforcement officers have informed me I have to perform community service. I'm pretty sure blogging counts. Aren't ya'll a community? Bingo. So what am I supposed to yap at you about? And what sort of service should I provide? Uhhhh. I'm blankin'. Well, giving advice is a form of service. Hey, send me some questions, like about dating or something. I'll answer them here. Aren't I a good citizen now? Anyway, if anybody has any "HORSE", email me on the side. And yes, officer, I am talking bout the animal. Geez!