Here’s a loose n’ ruff diamond-demo cover of “He Needs Me” by The Nurse Novels. Oh, and there’s a jet plane cameo at the end. Because every song needs more jet planes.

He Needs Me by thealux

I sound like a broken record player, but here I go: I’m in a band. Well, I have attachments to a band. We don’t play out anymore because everyone decided they wanted a backyard or something and got married and/or moved. But we have an album being mastered and a second being mixed. We’re a sleeper band. In the meantime, we make videos to accompany a few B-Side funnies, such as this cover of a song from Mr. Show:

A Mouthful of Sores Ain’t No Fun

To aurally witness this conversation and hear Moira’s complete voicemail, listen here:

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Dear Hanes,

I’ve been a faithful user of your products for years, you know, when I go shopping I remember your commercials and make my purchase based on those opinions that I recall from watching the fruit, the human fruit. They’re funny. But I just wanted to call to express my concern for one of your products.

Your 5 pack of bikini briefs with various patterns. Size medium. I assume they’re a popular item, thus my difficulty in expressing my frustration and concern. Mostly concern. Well, maybe equal parts frustration and concern.

When I first wore one of the items I did not notice something until I used the ladies’ facilities. When I pulled down your product as I was sitting, I noticed a sticker with a number on it, “#44″ was the number on it.  I took this to mean these undergarments were inspected by someone in a factory, namely one in India, since I later inspected and saw “Hencho en India” printed on the label, which I assumed to be Indian for “Made in India.” I removed the sticker and as they say, went about my merry way.

Being slightly absent-minded, I forgot to go home–well, I remembered to go home–but I forgot to remove the stickers in the other undergarments. So the next day I discovered another #44 sticker in the, I guess you call it a “vulvic sling” of the undergarment. I will admit, I felt reassured to know that such care went into making sure that everything I was putting on my body was inspected and deemed safe to wear by this #44.

And that’s why I’m contacting you, because I did not find a #44 sticker on one of the five garments in this pack of five underwear(s).  And I’m taking a stand, and I’m deeming these not safe to wear and am prepared to take this to the press if need be. I am concerned, I am a concerned citizen, I’d like to make it a point to fight for the public safety, knowing something like this slipped through the cracks. It’s disturbing. If this pair was not inspected, what’s to say that there aren’t others out there? How many other deadly panties, briefs or pantaloons or otherwise are lurking in America’s pants?

Without this assurance of inspection how am I to know that this underwear is not full of lead, or may fall apart causing me to trip, if it were to slouch down a pant leg, or may be more susceptible to fringing or fraying, or catching on things that may cause me to fall.

I do hope that you will take swift action and reprimand #44 so that this does not happen again, as well as recall the entire shipment affected by this error.

I have included a picture of me with your product and will take store credit if there’s no other option.

Sincerely,

Moira Durnwood

While the husband of the future is off fighting orcs and dragons in Michigan, I will be playing rock music.

While friends are getting married in Galena and my theater company is conquering NYC Fringe’s “Encore Series”, I will be rocking a riff or two.

While my homemade boutonnieres sit half-finished and my cat remains indifferent to it all, I will be rocking out.

The Nurse Novels at 10PM at Schubas.  Opening for Unicycle Loves You (Record Release Show)

And with the closing of one show, we begin another immediately.

That Sordid Little Story opens on July 8th at The Viaduct Theater.  I’ll be a part of the live band, writing some good old-fashioned folky tunes.

We had a showcase of some songs n’ scenes we’ve been workshopping over the past three weeks at the Chicago Cultural Center last night.  I’m addicted to this dang ditty.  Take a look and listen:

Hot damn!

I finally got the mp3 plugin to work!  Small victories make me happy when all I have lately is Chicago’s ass cold outside smacking me all up in my ass face…

So here’s a preview of a creepy song for The New Colony‘s production of 11:11 which opens February 8th at Victory Gardens.  These are still demos.  For the actual real creepy Jesus song I’m gonna hire some ghosts to sing some doo-wop backups.  Like in The Amazing Adventures of Pac-Man: The Album.

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I took the day off today since I was dangerously close to turning into a potato.  Spent the day going through old demos, finishing new ones and remembering that I am not my day job.

Tomorrow I go back to work like the rest of America’s potatoes. I’ll soon be interviewing for the position I currently hold because they’re… um, renaming my position and adding some whistles and bells to it in order to survive the economy’s wrath.  So that affects one’s morale a bit when your entire department is… renamed.

But today has been a solid 10 hours of creativity with only a few breaks to refill a coffee mug or eat some farmer’s market strawberry-rhubarb pie.  A good day.