The Gem of the Desert

Jackel

here are your choices:

1.Keeping your lipstick fetish private.

2.Hang with cliff and I over a 1942 Don Julio with a splash of lime shaken and served in a frosty martini glass....

3.Continue trying to sell lipstick, short straps, and aloe vera salve for your adams apple.

Jack...Life is all about choices.......
 
1.Keeping your lipstick fetish private.

A band I was in way back when, in Monterey, was called Fungo Bat. We played these odd open mic disasters occasionally, and the most bizarre people would show up and make noises...I remember one guy got up and told a meandering story about his father, who had passed away, and how his father loved Frank Sinatra. Okey dokey. He had a boom box and said he was going to sing some Sinatra for his dad, so we figured he had some kind of karaoke CD or something. Nope, it was just a Frank Sinatra disk, and he put one mic on the boom box and sang through the other, along with Frank. And then there were the performance artists. Anyway, we began to refer to it as "Display Your Symptoms Night".

That was where I learned that it is sometimes just easier to go with your sickness, in that it is like a venereal disease - if you don't share it, how will anyone know you have it?

And so we began to invite people, warehouse supervisors and cops and waitresses and old people and young people of all types, up on stage to sing a verse or two of "Why Don't We Do It In The Road". I mean, the words aren't hard to remember, even on short notice.

And now I've lost the point, unless I already made it and just couldn't stand to shut up.

2.Hang with cliff and I over a 1942 Don Julio with a splash of lime shaken and served in a frosty martini glass....

This is the one with the yellowish golden hue? A sweet caramel and toffee nose? Known for its very smooth and creamy entry which leads to a off-dry, medium body with sweet tobacco leaf, roasted agave, tropical fruits, and brown spices? Finishes beautifully with a long, sweet, agave-fruit-driven fade with a touch of
white pepper? That one?

Well, okay, you talked me into that.

3.Continue trying to sell lipstick, short straps, and aloe vera salve for your adams apple.

But without lipstick, I look so pale and withdrawn!

Wait, do you mean those Kent Armstrong pickups?
 
Some inspiring sights there - I will see if I can upload some nice shots from here in Norwich and Great Yarmouth where I work - then you can see how lucky you people really are.....
 
Big Poppa said:
Jackel

here are your choices:

1.Keeping your lipstick fetish private.

2.Hang with cliff and I over a 1942 Don Julio with a splash of lime shaken and served in a frosty martini glass....

3.Continue trying to sell lipstick, short straps, and aloe vera salve for your adams apple.

Jack...Life is all about choices.......

OH YES!----I cannot resist the Don Julio---splash of lime-shaken not stirred--served straight up--oh baby
we can break him of this lipstick habit;-)
cliff
 
Cliff, there is something he's not telling you.



Something that is being overlooked.






This was taken in my living room:

bongo5composite.jpg
 
Lipstick aside... very nice photography!

The guy (or gal) behind the shutter should be very proud! :)
 
bovinehost said:
Cliff, there is something he's not telling you.



Something that is being overlooked.






This was taken in my living room:

bongo5composite.jpg

all props to you --wow--those are beautiful-
c
 
bovinehost said:
I've heard you have one or two yourself.

Yes, I am blessed to be part of the Bongo support group. :o
alot of soul goes into every instrument----a rare thing these days!
Do you find that a 130 works better than a 125 on the bongo?
c
 
Cliff, all my Bongo 5s wear .136s or they wear nothing at all.

I like my B strings just like my women - fat bottoms, tight, able to handle the really deep stuff.

Ahem.

I'm using Thomastik Infelds on all of them save the desert gold four banger, which sports LaBella Deep Talking Flats.
 
bovinehost said:
Cliff, all my Bongo 5s wear .136s or they wear nothing at all.

I like my B strings just like my women - fat bottoms, tight, able to handle the really deep stuff.
Ahem.
You're preachin' to the choir, baby:cool:
 
It's just a name.

And look, C-L-I-F-F.

Four letters, three consonants and one vowel.

Now check this out:

J-A-C-K.

Four letters! Three consonants! One vowel!

Tell me it isn't scary, really.
 
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