That's Your Red Room

When you start me to worrying, I remember that life is only a dream
Now if you don't want me baby, some other woman will care for me
Now that's your Red Room, you can roll it along Joe
Baby, that's your Red Room, you can roll it along
Now when I leave you this time
Some other woman will drive me home

I was in love with you baby
But you was in love with someone else
I was in love with you baby
But you was in love with someone else

Yes, and poor me was outside Summers New door
Looking from empty hand to empty hand

Now, that's your Red Room

Are you ready for some hockey?

Listen up chumps. Don't hate the playa, hate the game. For all you doubters that said I couldn't play defense, I spent all off-season skating backwards and playing the man and not the puck. As a result, I expect all of you to show up and rock the red in the red room when the season starts!

Uh-oh, better get Maaco

Uh-oh, I better get Maaco after an Isurus Oxymoronicus Ginous (Gino's Infamous Jumping Mako Shark) cracked one of my panes.

Facebook Club

The first rule of Facebook club is you don't talk about Facebook club. The second rule of Facebook club is that you don't read anyone else's posts but your own, espeically if anyone includes Dallas Cowgirls fans.

The Twelve Labours of Joeakles

In honour of Labour Day (albeit a little late), I've compiled a list of the top twelve labours that Joe should undertake before the next Labour Day

1. Slay the Peroni Special Lion.
2. Slay the 9-headed Lernean Mya.
3. Capture the Golden First Soprano of Artemis.
4. Capture the Kareokian Bore.
5. Clean the Summers bathrooms in a single day.
6. Slay the satelite provider that doesn't put my game on television.
7. Capture the Calgarian Bull.
8. Steal the mares of Donniedes.
9. Obtain the ascot of the Amazon queen.
10. Obtain the cattle of the monster Fazio.
11. Steal the Apple iphones from the store down the street.
12. Capture and bring back a good bartender.

Sonny "Oil Can" Boyd

I sure hope Sonny oils my hinges before all the football fans show up tomorrow night or I'll be creakier than Brett Favre's knee joints.

Nothing is coming up Milhous

My girlfriend left me. My dog died. My truck broke down. I had a bad day at work. It sounds like a country song, and I hate country music. To add insult to injury, I heard today that Kenny Chesney was the second highest-grossing musical act over the last decade. When Willie Nelson is still alive, that hurts. I thought I could resolve all of my country angst by going to Summers tonight.

But no.

When I got to Summers, it was busy, I was stuck watching tennis, Yoko Mya Ono was there just to break up the Beatles, and I got trapped in a conversation about how it was 9/02/10 and how OMG the original 90210 is totes awesomer than the gag me with a spoon new 902010.

My day went from bad to worse and nothing was coming up Milhous.

I finally realized that Summers, once my fortress of solitude, has been destroyed by the red kryptonite of the red room.

Oomba Loompa Doompity Do

Big Joe Gloop! Big Joe Gloop!
The great big greedy nincompoop.
How long could we allow this curmudgeon
To store naughty bartenders in his dungeon?
Every time he wanted to?
Great Scott Cote, that just won't do!
However long this Joe might live,
We're positive he'd never give
the smallest bit of fun
or happiness to anyone
So what we do in cases such
As this, we use the gentle touch
We carefully invite people to Summers
and not so carefully give them all hummers.

F This Chord

I happened to be at Summers on a Tuesday night recently (and the fact that yesterday was tuesday is purely coincidental) because I didn't have anything else to do and its not that I like going to Summers because I have nothing else to do, I like going to Summers because its what I've always done, but it is really more than that, sure it is a cool neighborhood bar, if by cool you mean warm because Mean Joe Green won't put on the air conditioning even though its like a billion degrees and it is the first of September and seriously hasn't Fall started yet because it is the first of September and hockey season should be starting soon and I hate walking to work in my Toronto Maple Leafs jersey and it is still so fucking hot that I sweat through the jersey and no Leafs jersey should be stained by something so pedestrian as sweat stains and even though its that hot can you believe that Joe won't turn on the air conditioning or even open the back door and put on the fan like he used to do (what happened to the good old days?) or prop open Summers New Door (which is so not pesky); and if by bar you mean a place where people are supposed to be able to order drinks although they can't especially if mya worst enemy is working the bar and someone (who shally remain namless (cough_mya_cough)) forgets to get you a refill because they're too busy texting on their new droid phone (omg! u have a droid fone? its totes awesome! lol! ttyl! ) and if by neighborhood you mean the area around the Courthouse Metro station although its not really a neighborhood and has yet to really define its vibe which is a term I heard some sasketchewannabe using while he adjusted a checkered hat I think he stole from the corpse of Frank Sinatra (although I think I saw my Pop wear one in a picture from 1937) and he drank red girly drinks even though Peroni is STILL on special while he tried to explain to me how to play guitar and F this chord.