August 2nd, 2004


Mr. Grinch Memorabilia

So I'm finally scanning up some old songs and playlists and whatnot from my highschool band, Mister Grinch and the Toilet Ducks. This was actually one of the first bands to have their own website, the "Grinchnet", which I set up sometime in early 1994 when I got my first ISP account. I used some shitty software to make it and the page was puke green and basically all it had was some lyrics and lists of songs. I didn't have any pictures or WAV files to upload, but I made pages for them nonetheless. Sadly they deleted it when I cancelled my account a few years later.

Anyway this is from my old Grinch notebook. I'm going to put a couple of direct links, but you can just go to and see all of them (plus all my other uploaded pictures) listed as MrGrinchMemorabilia ***.jpg or whatever it is. All of these songs were written between 1993/1994 and 1997, when I was in highschool. I wrote most of the songs (the ones I actually wrote, since some of the songs were written by the previous singer my old best friend Josh Drummond) sitting on my rooftop at 2 in the morning smoking cigarettes after coming home from work. I could see the moon and stars really clearly and it was so quiet and peaceful and shit. Anyway if you read the lyrics of these songs you'll see how retarded they were. Most of the other Baton Rouge highschool bands we played with at parties and shit were either into Dinosaur Jr.-like songs or "punk"-like songs. We played all kinds of sounds, with no real genre I suppose. I just wrote songs that sounded funny when I was writing them and the sound was really fucked up. I'd love to put our demo CD online but my copy was stolen and our bassist's copy was too scratched up. So I'll have to put it up here another time..,Scott,Clint,Lindsey,Andy,Trey-97.jpg - here's one of the few pictures I actually have of us playing. I think this is the last gig we ever played, at some all-ages all-hours place called "Insomneeaks" or something like that. I'm the guy in front with the skunk hairdo (as you might have expected), and the two dudes at right are our roadies. Not pictured in the audience is my then-girlfriend smiling and my then-ex-girlfriend pouting. Har har.,Scott,Clint,LindseyDux-96.jpg - This is a year earlier at some Red Cross benefit concert. I'm singing in front with my baby, classic white Fender strat American Standard (oh, that baby feels so good to play). The guy on my immediate right there is Clint our rythmn guitarist. You can see a little black bandage on his right hand: right before we went onstage, I shot him in the hand with a pelled gun and then after he was bitching and moaning about how it hurt when he moved his hand (like OMG WHATEVER hehe), I took out my pocketknife and did a little field surgery and dug out the pellet, wrapped his precious little baby pinkie in electrical tape and told him to suck it up and get the hell on stage. The redhead is Scott, the bassist who in turn shot Lindsey the drummer in the ribs with the same pellet gun. I tried, but couldn't dig the pellet out of Lindsey's chest; I think it worked its way out after the gig. Ah, those were the days *wistful tear* - This is part (what would fit on the scannerbed) of the flyer for our show in Houma at the Main Street Music Hall. We were the headliners. We were supposed to get paid $100 (ooh big money) but, they made the mistake of giving us a friggin ice chest FULL of beer before the show. OH MY GOD did I get sloshed. I usually did not drink before a show, but jesus christ, free beers. My rythmn guitarist and I got loaded and I started making up lyrics to our songs and going into 5 minute random guitar solos, and I hocked this big half-pound loogey into the face of one of our roadies in the middle of a song to impress this girl in the front row. And then apparently I just up and said "okay it's time for a break now folks" at some point and then just layed down onstage with my guitar still strapped on and basically both the rythmn guitaris and I just passed out right onstage for about 10 minutes. After the gig the promoter fucking stiffed us 50 bucks. But I was so drunk and tired I could hardley walk, so I didn't do anything about it. Ah well fuck it. - an early playlist, I think. I don't even remember half of these songs. A lot of our earlier songs were pretty much just crap written by our first singer while he was on acid or trying to kill himself by overdosing on insulin. So basically they were just fodder when I took over for him. Gotta love that guy. Josh Drummond, in Cranberry Township, Penssylvania. (P.S. if anyone knows how I can get in touch with him I'd be extra-grateful) - this is one of my favorite of ours. We had 2 or 3 rockabilly-ish songs and this one, if you can't tell by the title, "Eep Opp Ork Ah-Ah" was written as a tribute to the same song which was on one of the episodes of the Jetsons ( I basically just bastardized it and inserted some profanity and whatnot. But the song was kinda reminiscent of a futuristic daddy-o type "the outsiders"-esque song so that's what I did. - This song is called Moonracer. Apparently when I mailed a tape of this song to my friend in Pennsylvania it got me quite a following of little pre-teen and teenage girls all swooning over how much feeling was in the lyrics and how I was singing them.. That made fucking laugh until I almost pissed in my pants, because the same thing actually happened in Baton Rouge when we added it to our (constantly-changing) playlists. The funny part was that the Moonracer was my K-mart skateboard, which I had modified in my dad's workshop and built a set of ski handle out of scrap wood so I could ride behind our drummer's Chevette while he drove down through town. I used to get some good speed up and then wipe out REALLY badly. All those little girls, getting all moist over a song about my fucking skateboard. - this is a flyer that my bassist and I stapled like 100 of up on the north gates of LSU for this damned show, which never even happened for some unknown reason. I had learned to play the star-spangled banner almost EXACTLY the way Jimi Hendrix played it in that famous wah-wah way he did it at some concert. I had that shit fucking TIGHT, I would've won just for that song, with my american flag t-shirt on. But noooo they had to up and cancel it. This was one of the few times we ever put flyers up for anything. In the right picture you can see a couple of us draped on the ground in a manner I tried to replicate the cover for the Devo Hardcore volume 1 album cover. In another picture I have us all worshipping one of my dad's old duck decoys and in another I have us chasing, with drawn shotguns, bow&arrow, and butchering saws, our rythmn guitarist who has a set of real deer antlers which I attached to his head by wrapping (tightly) a set of bungee cords. It's a funny pic, I should find it.

The rest are at the first link, it would take too long to post all the backstories. Enjoy.
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Oh man do I hate journal clubs. GOD do I hate that shit. I'd rather slowly run stick pins in my fucking arm for an hour.


But, but, but! I just got myself a ticket for The Cramps, playing with Hank Williams III in September. I thought I would never get to see the Cramps after I missed their concert last year. I'm rebounding, folks. I can see the top of the bookshelf and soon I'll be tangled in the ceiling fan.

And I think I should warn you that this 'fat free original ranch dressing' stuff tastes like something I would have to put into a special red trash bag at work to get rid of. God this is some horrible, odious, horrible crap. I'm sitting here with half a dozen dildo-sized carrots trying to "eat healthy", and I've pretty much stopped worrying about what dioxin-laced gwidge I'm swallowing by not washing them first and begun worrying how the enamel on my teeth will fare after eating 2 bits of that oral rape sauce.
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