tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33218373.post115634132019530021..comments2023-09-01T09:05:27.990-05:00Comments on The Moon Topples: I hope John C. Reilly washes his handsThe Moon Toppleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12717446064777879248noreply@blogger.comBlogger6125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33218373.post-1157045658999272702006-08-31T12:34:00.000-05:002006-08-31T12:34:00.000-05:00the funniest comment you made to me about the tom ...the funniest comment you made to me about the tom waits ticket <BR/>price was that you decided not to go to lollapalooza because you <BR/>figured you were going to be paying $40 (or so) per band that you wanted to see and that the money to music ration therefore wasn't worth it. then you find yourself at the waits show paying twice that for 1 artist.Anonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33218373.post-1156564321489078232006-08-25T22:52:00.000-05:002006-08-25T22:52:00.000-05:00?!??!?The Moon Toppleshttps://www.blogger.com/profile/12717446064777879248noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33218373.post-1156562118056221442006-08-25T22:15:00.000-05:002006-08-25T22:15:00.000-05:00I like Mahtue.It was the early 90's...a dark, cold...I like Mahtue.<BR/><BR/>It was the early 90's...a dark, cold November morning. He lived the apartment below me. <BR/><BR/>And, he knew a lot about fuses.<BR/><BR/>That day, the cold air called to me like an impending jury duty notice. I felt weak, tired and I was without the electric.<BR/><BR/>Mahthue and I had our first encounter that morning. My world changed that day. Sitting there in my dark apartment with heavy clouds dancing above my head, Mathue called on my door to check my condition. Surprised by the care of another, I promptly put down the gay porn I had been indulging in and answered the door.<BR/><BR/>There he was.<BR/><BR/>Yes. He fixed the fuse that had gone awry. <BR/><BR/>Later that month, we became friends. Every Sunday, he would knock on my door with the fresh morning paper and we would sit around and chat about things that smell funny over ginseng tea. One day he brought over a dead animal as a gift. Quite surprised, I said "why?" and he said "because you don't have one". <BR/><BR/>Then, it all made sense to me.<BR/><BR/>More, later...<BR/><BR/>- albertAnonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33218373.post-1156537604950907992006-08-25T15:26:00.000-05:002006-08-25T15:26:00.000-05:00You guys, you crazy guys.You guys, you crazy guys.Anonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33218373.post-1156526837329189152006-08-25T12:27:00.000-05:002006-08-25T12:27:00.000-05:00Dirk,Now that I know the whole story, is it weird ...Dirk,<BR/><BR/>Now that I know the whole story, is it weird that I'm mostly mad that he didn't tip?<BR/><BR/>I love that you went to the trouble of finding out when the concert was, because otherwise people might not believe it's true. Nice.<BR/><BR/>Also that Horatio Sanz couldn't even get through your post without laughing.The Moon Toppleshttps://www.blogger.com/profile/12717446064777879248noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33218373.post-1156525171608702832006-08-25T11:59:00.000-05:002006-08-25T11:59:00.000-05:00Found this on John C. Reilly's blog, posted 08/10/...Found this on John C. Reilly's blog, posted 08/10/06<BR/><BR/>"...enjoyed Tom Waits' performance at the Chicago Auditorium Theatre very much last night. Saw my good friend Horatio Sans there - he's an INCERDIBLE talent. My only disappointment with the entire evening was with the facilities. As much as I didn't want to miss one note of Tom's incredible blues set, nature called. Upon sitting down I noticed there was no bathroom tissue in my stall. I asked the gentlemen occupying the adjacent throne if there was any he could spare. After a giggle and a snorting, "No, man. I'm using ALL of it in HERE, dude," I realized that Horatio was not going to be able to help me. I resigned myself to my fate - whatever I use to clean myself here, will need to be washed thoroughly. After dropping my deuce I rushed to the sink to scrub my pudgy, stinky digits. To my shock and horror there was no soap, no hot water and no paper towels. I stormed out of the restroom only to be met by the apparent washroom attendant. I assume he was the attendant because he seemed a little twitchy - probably uncormfortable about the poor condition in which he had left his workplace. He was nice enough to tell me he was a fan, so I felt no reason to dress him down. I thanked him, shook his hand, and as we passed eachother I quickly turned wiped my hands on the tail of his shirt. I sure hope he washes his laundry..."<BR/><BR/>Dude, you're FAMOUS!Richhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/16016474759001709394noreply@blogger.com