Herb Urban

*Verb 1. minify - make smaller; “He decreased his staff”

Is that something a guy can do voluntarily? When I need to quell an untimely insurgent uprising I visualize Star Jones employing her fatty extracts as a fondue pot for delicious Cornish hens. That minifies my shit right up.

In other enthralling celebrities news headlines that caught my eye scrolling before me in my office elevator, it has been a rough couple of months for disgraced pitching great Roger Clemens. The Rocket is alleged to have been banging a 15 year old country singer. Billy Ray Cyrus: Worst.Stage.Dad.Ever! Nice going defrocked Minister of the Mullet faithful. E-mailing suggestive photos of your daughter to Bill O’Reilly? Sounds like someone has been taking dubious parenting advice from Lynne Spears again. What’s next, Frenching Madonna or partying with Paris and their departed panties on the Sunset Strip?

Speaking of Bill Orally, so is this what floats his loofah these days? He wants to convene a conference to discuss the scantily clad Hannah Montana pictures? I can see how this would be a nice diversion from his daily all hands Fox News staff circle jerk. It is hard to sustain a 24 hour news cycle erection on a limited number of 90 second Rev. Wright YouTube clips and taking Barack Obama speeches out on context. Hell, even the Clinton campaign has moved on to flogging Obama over other non issues. Not liking Bill’s choice of Warren Zevon’s “Excitable Boy” as theme song on the stump. The Big Dog is hanging out with more of the “Lawyers, Guns and Money” crowd these days.

Lastly, I want to take a minute to address the nasty internet rumor I’m begging Matt Drudge to run with regarding reports that I have been in blogging seclusion to hide my shame for faking a second Brucegasm at the Seattle Springsteen show last month. How dare you, obscure hack blogger undeserving of my linkage. I may have experienced a “senior moment” during Point Blank, but I definitely came up for the rising. Screw you, Herb Urban Nights! Mike Gravel’s taint, does every shmohawk have a second blog these days?

Meshugga gentiles! Still beats Brother Herm’s soggy flaky balls.

Clinton Press Release:

Out of touch, elitist rock star endorses latte liberal son of privilege and enemy of the working man

It is only fitting another wealthy ego driven Hollywood liberal who looks down on the fine hard working men and women of rural Pennsylvania has endorsed a candidate who shares his resentment of traditional American values.

Bruce Springsteen, who long ago renounced, denounced and rejected his working class NJ roots for the million dollar mansions of the Hollywood Hills, officially threw his support today behind fellow atheist, gun abolitionist, poor bowler and fetus hating snob Barack Obama. Color us surprised.

The Clinton campaign by contrast is proud to announce the endorsement of 2nd Amendment right champion and true flap lapel pin wearing American Ted Nugent. Unlike “The Boss”, Mr. Nugent never stopped being proud to be Born in the U.S.A. The “Motor City Madman” recognizes the need for a commander in chief who will be ready on day one to answer the phone at 3 a.m. under heavy sniper fire.

Mr. Nugent understands Americans are a proud, hopeful optimistic people who want their leaders to embody their deep devotion to God, Guns, Country and Fox News. That is why he proudly stands with our working class hero Hillary in her fight to preserve our precious right to shoot ducks with AK-47s.

God Bless Ted Nugent and God Bless the proud, hard working non bitter men and women of faith in the great states of Pennsylvania, Indiana and wherever else people don’t hold undemocratic caucuses.

Sincerely,

Mark Penn
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The succession of sporadic and uninspired posts over the past six weeks has been inexcusable. I sincerely apologize to all my loyal readers who have weathered the storm of my blogging exile. There is finally good news to report coming out of Herbsylvania. I am returning to old job and leave for Seattle this coming weekend. I will be staying with family (either Herm or Mother Urban — that is one monumental coin flip no one eagerly awaits). Once I get settled in Mrs. Urban and the little one will join me there.

Now that all personal matters have been attended to, we can return to our normally scheduled stupidity. Anyone up for some catshit coffee? How did Starbucks not trademark this? The similarity in taste and texture is uncanny right down to the tiny clumps at the bottom of my cup. I recommend the Exotic Shorthair blend.

Thanks to Mortimer’s Mom for the link.

Huge thanks to Mrs. Figby (aka Mrs. Eyeball?) for e-mailing me this huge find. A fanny-pack is exactly how I’ve pictured the Rickster in my sleep. He must use his manly bag to store his collagen on the go kit for when generous casino lighting is not readily available.

Speaking of poorly aging musical enigmas, Darryl Hall now holds concerts in his living room with much younger, hipper artists. He even has a website for his little Dan Zanes inspired house parties. Meanwhile, Oates broadcasts a free weekly podcast bitterly critiquing each performance because Hall never invites him over to play. Maybe the sex has spoiled Darryl.

Name three recent search terms used by readers of this site. Makes you proud to bring me up in your browser, doesn’t it? Those search terms are a short story about Dr. Drew’s sordid adventures south of the border just waiting to be written. I know what I will be doing on my flight back tomorrow.

Hey Google, when did I ever write about “Mexican whore houses”? Looking at some of the more explicit recent search terms I think someone is secretly Googlebombing me with smut. Whoever is doing this better cut it out. I run a clean family friendly website. I will not tolerate dirty whore house talk on this page, at least not until I finish my Dr. Drew graphic lit fan fiction.

The sheer joy and excitement of Bruce was too much for my cell phone. It died somewhere between Radio Nowhere and Lonesome Day. I was close enough to the stage to have taken killer cell pics. Oh well. Not even the death of my beloved cell phone could ruin one of the greatest musical nights of my life! Killer setlist. Opening up with tour debut of "Trapped” was a shocker. The stuff from Magic sounded incredible. I think the only songs they didn’t play were “Girls in Their Summer Clothes” and “I’ll Work For Your Love”. They also pulled out some surprises like “Point Blank”.

There are too many highlights to recount and I am still on my Bruce high and in dire need of coffee. I will have to collect my thoughts later and write a full report. The encore obviously. “10th Avenue Freeze-Out” followed by “Rosalita”. Man Alive! Does it get any better than “Badlands”? I’m at a loss for words, and a little hoarse. More on Bruce soon as I can string coherent thoughts together.

I changed my flight to stay in Seattle through the middle of next week. I have a follow up interview on Tuesday which looks very promising. X is playing Seattle tonight. My favorite pitcher Felix Hernandez is pitching on Tuesday night against Texas. I just might go to both. God damn, life is frickin’ good, though I already miss Mrs. Urban and the lil one dearly. I’ll see them both back on Wednesday.

Setlist:

Trapped
Radio Nowhere
Lonesome Day
Gypsy Biker
Magic
Reason to Believe
Darkness on the Edge of Town
Because the Night
She’s the One
Livin’ in the Future
The Promised Land
Waitin’ on a Sunny Day
Your Own Worst Enemy
Point Blank
Devil’s Arcade
The Rising
Last to Die
Long Walk Home
Badlands

(Encore)
Tenth Avenue Freeze-out
Rosalita
Born to Run
American Land

Hornsby!

It is good to be back in Seattle!

Full credit to my good buddy and fellow Bruce enthusiast Mike-El for coining the disturbingly Hofftastic term “Brucegasm”. It puts my Wikipedia, Urban Dictionary and eHarmony rejected “Hot Oatmeal” to shame. So what if it was lifted from a 70’s “Jerry Rivers” era Geraldo Rivera porno? Maybe I should try eChemistry. Can’t a guy get some pun love?

Five more days until I get my rocks off with The Boss! Get your minds out of the gutter folks!