IRS to Embarcadero Baumberg: "Go Fuck Yourself!"

Dude. If you're like me, then you don't make a lot of money. And you're also really good looking with a voice that could charm the halo off an angel. Apparently you also owe a shit ton of loot to the IRS.
Now I'm no pinko leftist looking to overthrow the government (commies pay way higher taxes), but I am starting to wonder what the deuce these bastardos are doing with my cashish. They're straight jacking me like a raccoon at yer front door.

This is some ol' bullshit. I think there should be some sort of reward for making it 12 months without being arrested or going on unemployment. Call it the "low expectations amnesty," or even the "Aim Low Kid Deduction" (see what I did there? our band is called Aim Low Kid...). That way if the best thing you can say about yourself in any given year is that you're neither a criminal, nor indigent, you should get a pity-pass on paying taxes. Sort of like the discounted lap dances I get when I go to a strip club...


Er, I mean... um, chicks...
Now I'm not saying rich people who don't get arrested should be eligible for the Aim Low Kid Deduction... this is strictly for us "regular folk." You know, people who put their pants on one leg at a time... and sometimes have to use napkins when they run out of toilet paper... or paper towels... or coffee filters. The kind of proud Americans who understand that "whole grain," and "organic" are just conspiracies run by fringe extremists out to taint the good name and nutritional value of Doritos.
So yeah, anyway... taxes can blow me. If you're interested in helping Embarcadero avoid debtors prison in the Bastille, please make checks payable to Aim Low Kid International...

The Breadbowl: Ruining your Meal Since 1937

If there's 2 things San Francisco has plenty of, it's gay dudes who are so physically jacked they make straight dudes (like me) look like women...


... and delicious clam chowder in sourdough breadbowls.


Here's what I've learned: the breadbowl is a hoax. Not unlike Global Warming, premium channels and the female orgasm.
You see, the breadbowl is no different from a ceramic bowl, or even a plastic bowl. It's a temporary holding location for the soup until the soup can be transported to your mouth, usually via spoon. In a sense, it's like soup escrow. But the bonus is the escrow account is a flaky and delicious piece of sourdough bread to be enjoyed long after the soup transfer has occurred.
The problem is it looks bigger and significantly more delicious than, say a mug of Campbell's Tomato, duping the innocent soup purchaser into paying more. In reality they're probably getting less soup and that delicious flaky sourdough escrow account has turned into a cold hard hockey puck of non-interest-earning dissatisfaction, to be unceremoniously discarded with regret.

Bet you were wondering how I was gonna tie that all together. And yes, for those of you keeping track at home, that is 2 posts in a row with drawings of bears in bondage gear. Aim Low Kid rules!!

R.I.P. Charlton Heston, Nostalgia, NRA

Chuckton Heston was one of the best. He had a really kick ass physical advantage on other actors that made him, essentially, the LeBron James of his era. Sure, there were other actors who could boast good looks (Stewart, Grant, Gable), booming freak-voice (Yul Brynner) or even his level of manly physical prowess (Katherine Hepburn). But nobody combined all three in such a convenient package. Whether he was playing a Mexican (Touch of Evil), or even a Jew (The Ten Commandments), dude could act.
He also got posterized by Michael Moore once which I thought was lame. Can't hate on El Cid for being a baller, if a conservative one.
Speaking of conservative, this dude loved guns.
I always imagined the den of his private home with human heads mounted on the wall. And a giant polar bear rug. The rug really got off light though, I suppose.

Don't worry, it turns out Polar Bears hang out on ice drifts on purpose, to hunt. And they can swim like 20 miles no problem, so this guy's cool... unless this ice flow is 21 miles or more away from shore. But if it is, then he's in international waters, and you know what that means...


That's right, it's freaky interspecies bondage. Anyway... Charlton Heston was great.
He will be missed...
If you'd like to make a small donation to the NRA in honor of his memory... what? That's not inappropriate!

Anesthetic Awareness? Don't be a Pussy...

It's the vomiting while you're unconscious that'll kill you...



My brother says "Anesthetic Awareness" isn't real. Anakin Skywalker, Jessica What's-Her-Name and the black guy from Crash (get it? eh... eh... which black guy?) all say "Fuck you, quote unquote brother." In unison. While doing air quotes with their fingers.
Dude, I used to look forward to the fun overnight-stay playfulness of surgery. That innocence is gone...
I am now officially uncomfortable with going "under the knife" as the saying goes... or went 20 years ago. Now I guess I'd more accurately say "under the laser," or even, "under the telekinetic powers of an alien race of Superdoctors."
The whiteys in Aim Low Kid would call these Superdoctors "Jewish" or "Asian."

But that offends me...

both as a Jew, and as a guy who watches a lot of Kung-Fu movies...

I'm Not Saying This Guy is a Douche Bag...

But this guy is kind of a douche bag. He seems to see the obvious awesomeness of building your own tank (with you so far) and then he uses it to shoot paint balls.

That's whack. Paint ball is like full contact Dungeons & Dragons.

Actually this is...


Gooooo! I'm more concerned for the 5 kids I've circled in the left of this next picture:


The 3 on the right are already too late to be saved. But those kids on the left have a dark future in store for them... and not just because they'll be gothy (although scientific studies have shown at least 3 out of five tubby nerds at a "ren-fair" will certainly end up gothy...).

Yuk yuk yuk... (that's Aim Low Kid front-"man" Daniel Phifer) but actually he's never been to a renaissance foam fight... and I don't know if he was tubby when he was a kid... he was just gothy because it was the '80s...

(lame story about foam sword fighting and photos by Ben Paynter, who either works for Kansas City's The Pitch, or Holger Danske, the ancient Danish spirit of asskickery...)

Scientists Discover Cuteness a Terrible Disease

My brother got a dog. His name is Divisadero Baumberg... my brother, not the dog. The dog is named Jack. My brother thinks this mutt is cute. I think cuteness may not be all it's cracked up to... uh... be. Could it be that cute things infect us with their lameness? Making us soft? Like custard?


Now clearly the cuteness hasn't "infected" my brother in the traditional sense. Which is to say, he has not increased in cuteness in any measurable way. What you see is all stock from the manufacturer.


But he has certainly become more lame, as is evident in the email he sent me with 900 pictures of him getting cutilated by this wee mutt. Am I wrong? Or do dogs like this only further blur the line between best friend and suspect Chinese takeout?

Battle of Ideologies

No longer just a place to find the definitions of words like slag or plonker (what are you a cockney street urchin?), UrbanDictionary.com is now the site of a grudge match. It hosts a wee battle to the finish for who defines the divisive phrases, "moonbat" and "wingnut." Having read a few of these, I have come to the conclusion that the failed abortions responsible for posting these all fit under another definish at the ol' urban dictionary.
Wait, is there an entry for fuckface? Why yes... yes there is.
What this all has to do with the band I don't know, but when I Googled lead singer Daniel Phifer looking for a photo, all I got was this:

A Case of the Mondays...

Dear Chumps,

Welcome to the new Aim Low Kid HQ. You ever hear of Aim Low Kid?
Here at the offices of Aim Low Kid International, our Mondays are just like yours: we shower, we shave, we eat a half grapefruit with Splenda, drink a piping hot cup of gravy-er, I mean, coffee... and then we get to work writing sweaty hot jams about the minutia of Southern living. Yes we're located in San Francisco, but did it ever occur to you that looking down upon the uneducated masses from out Ivory Tower in the North gives us a rare perspective on agrarian living? Moron.
So we sit here, and we write songs about what we think it might be like to live without amenities such as iPods, iPhones, iTunes, or even things not made by Apple... like, uh... bicycles. When we're finished, we sometimes contemplate practicing those songs, but we find it's more rewarding to learn facts and trivia. For instance, just today we wrote a song about how hard life can be when your plow breaks down and the crop is ready for harvest. Then we read a book about the ramifications of Kosovo declaring independence from Serbia.

In both cases we decided that a plow is totally unnecessary for a harvest.

But I digress... the reason we started a blog was to keep our many fans abreast of our constant metamorphosis. So let me just remind you, we've got shows coming up. And we're about to record a new album. And you're all, "But I didn't even hear the first album!" To which we angrily respond, "Guess you'll have to buy one! That is, if you haven't already wasted your money on the Rhianna/Avril Lavigne split 7" on Victory Records."


Calling it Skanktron seemed excessive.
Welcome to Aim Low Kid HQ. More to come, chumps.

Yours,
Embarcadero Baumberg
Aim Low Kid Estate Manager
Personal Lines Insurance Broker
Gemini