Friday, March 30, 2007

The Twenty Two Day War

Twenty two days ago I left you with a cryptic blog about going away to an undisclosed location for vague reasons. I alluded to mysterious forces trying to destroy us, the continuing threat of Francesca Fiori and her associate, the elusive Mr. Dr. Robert Young. I even put the blog on an orange alert. What was up you say? Good question. Where have I been for the last twenty two days. Even better one. Why do monarch butterflies all flock to the same valley in Mexico every year? I have no idea. Why you would go somewhere where everyone is beautiful too is beyond me. That's why I roost in Toronto. More moths than butterflies.

So what did happen to me? Did I fall off a roof like Steve Weston and die? Obviously not because I wouldn't be here blogging unless this isn't really me. Did I fall in love and run off with someone? I wish. Maybe I had been trying to dust a 'Best Legs' trophy on a high book shelf at home and had fallen in between the shelf and the wall and had been trapped there for weeks hanging upside down like a curing slab of bacon. It was none of those things. It was far more boring. I was kidnapped and held hostage by a shadowy group where I was tortured for twenty two days. But it all worked out and I'm back, and all is well. Nay! Better than well. Wellbutrin well.

You'll have to excuse me for not getting more upset but it's not the first time I've been kidnapped. I was kidnapped once before by Uday Hussein and ended up having to have sex with him and his father so this was a cake walk by comparison. I don't even know what my kidnappers looked like because they wore Maude masks the entire time. They wanted me to associate the great Bea Arthur with this horrible experience and forever ruin my love of for her. That's how ruthless they were. All I know is there were four of them and at least two of them were women, one of whom spoke with a Latin accent and called herself Alfresca. Naturally I have my suspicions who it was but I can't say until I know more or get drunk and spill my guts. What was their purpose. They told me they were trying to bring about the collapse of civilization by kidnapping it's most amusing members and holding them hostage for twenty two days until they're broken whereupon they return them back to society so witless and dull that their demeanour will act as a soporific on their friends and eventually render everyone around then completely stupefied until we are all so compliant that we can be harvested as food. That's when I thought they might not be who they said they were. I asked them "Why twenty two days?" They said that it was because that was the life span of any given quip and that after that amount of time, it's impact diminished. Then I asked one of the men what this had to do with Ewe and the woman with the accent said "Nothing." and that Ewe was just collateral damage. I didn't believe her because the whole time she was talking she was writing various prices on a tomato with a sharpie.

For three weeks they tortured me. They blasted me with the soundtrack from Dreamgirls, just the men's parts. They forced me to vote for Sanjaya on American Idol over and over again until my fingers bled. The worst was when they made me write a letter to the editor of Entertainment Weekly thanking them for their "absolutely amazing" cover shot of Justin Timberlake that made him look "so real and completely approachable but still super hot." They almost got me there but I held on. That's when i decided to stop breathing. It's a trick I learned from a shaman/trick in Lake Titicaca and anyways it's come in handy a few times over the years when you want someone to leave. You don't actually stop breathing. You just take in enough air to keep from passing out. It drives your captor's crazy because they think you're dead and they don't want that at least not at the beginning. By the second week I was barely conscious. Week three, I don't remember any of it. Apparently I made a video where I talked about how mixed up Britney was and how I wished I could give her a hug and then I hugged the camera and fell into a coma.

During my time asleep I had this dream where I was in a a room shaped like a triangle lying on a triangular bed and Starbuck the beautiful tomboy space fighter on Battlestar Gallactica was sitting in a traingular chair with her legs crossed like a man and staring at me like she wanted to eat me and my firstborn. Then May Pang the woman John Lennon briefly left Yoko for, came through a round door carrying a case of *Coke Zero. She put the case down and then pulled on out one frosty can and tossed it to Starbuck. She grabbed it and popped it open with a satisfying fizz and then downed it in one go. Then she stood up and I could see that she was wearing a huge strap on penis. She began to walk towards me waggling her rubber appendage and that's all remember until I woke up under a hedge in Forest Hill wearing a bloody diaper. I had lost seventeen pounds and looked fabulous. It was all air. I gained it back by the time I got home. Oh well, that's why there's **Coke Zero.

* This mention of Coke Zero was paid for by Coca Cola Limited and it's subsidiaries and may not be used in or of itself as a stand in for any other cola or beverage of a bubbly brown nature including but not limited to Root Beer, Dr. Pepper, Brio, or Tab.

**This mention of Coke Zero was completely unsolicited.

Gabcast! ewe #33 - Be My Barbarian

This song was alledgedly recorded on March 24th 2007 by me after fifteen days in captivity. At this point I had just fallen into the coma so how I managed to summon the energy to record this cri de couer, I have no idea. What I imagined happened was that at some point in the night I sleptwalked to a studio where my captors had assembled my band Mouth Congress at gunpoint and forced them to accompany me while I raged and stormed in my vegetative state. What other explanation could there be?




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11 comments:

PsycoticPenguin said...

Oh, Buddy! Thank all that is right and holy with the world that you are alright. We were so worried. I was about to put up Where's Buddy? flyers all around Chicago with you in this adorable red and white striped outfit. It came with a lovely matching hat. But, now that we know you are safe, all is right with the world. Except for the million of flyers I have absolutely no use for. Oh well, such is the price you must pay.

I found these lovely videos of Scott Thompson on youtube doing standup the other day and passed them around the KITH forum and livejournal community. I hope they were authorized to do this. And, even moreso, I hope this means he'll be touring around the country. Not to make any extra trouble for you, but you keep meeting up with him. Maybe you can tell us what's up?

LLJessR said...

Is it bad that your new blog entry turned me on a little bit??

...I don't care. It was hot.

Thank the baby Jesus you're home.

Soooo LLJessR (thats me...) was nominated for Valedictorian... My interview is on Monday morning. If I get it, I'm totally closing my speech with a Buddy Cole quote... It would only be appropriate.

Now I have to pour over all of the illustrious things you've said and try to find the most poignant of them... ...God, I love you.

BiPolar said...

Welcome back Buddy! 22 days is nothing compared to the your lifetime of bondage.

I bet a bunch of horny ugly dudes just out of prison spiked your martinis on a daily basis with the "love drug" to take complete advantage of you in a coma.

How swell is that? No pain, no gain! Can't wait to see the video leaked on the internet.

Have you considered medical attention as a result? Are you suffering from razor burn?

Lord, it's been so long since I last did acid but your latest gabcast had me tripping out to "White Rabbit" for hours after.

How grand you survived another little caper in captivity. Great to have you back. BearHugs!

Lana said...

"They blasted me with the soundtrack from Dreamgirls, just the men's parts"

I damn near pissed my pants on that one!!! I skip over the Curtis and C.C. parts. I do enjoy the Eddie Murphy songs though.

I'm sorry.


I am so glad that you are back! :)

Sara said...

So glad to have you back, Buddy!

While you were missing, you might be interested to know I saw one Scott Thompson at UCB Theatre in Los Angeles and thought he was hilarious. I'll sign up to join the advocates against circumcision any day.

lory said...

hi! this is the first time i've come here to read buddy's blogs. pretty good, buddy! glad you're ok ; )

Geheebers said...

I am so very glad that you escaped once again from the evil Francesca Fiori and Dr Robert Young. They really will go to any lengths to ruin our fun!
That Francesca is NOT to be trusted, Buddy. She may be beautiful, but the prettiest spider has the deadliest venom, and there is none prettier than Buddy Cole, according to an endless succession of judges in body part beauty pageants all across the world.
It's a good thing that you are getting so comfortable with being kidnapped, and also with holding your breath. Congratulations on the weight loss, Buddy! Leave it to you to turn a hostage situation into a beauty treatment.
I speak for myself on this, but you continue to be an inspiration to all of us.

Suzanne Bellerive said...

Ewe's back, as they say in sheep country!

I discovered your blog just days before you disappeared for 22 days ... do you realize how long that is to go without a chuckle?

Glad you're back, boychik. Count me another regular reader, that is, if you stick around for a while this time.

X's and O's to you,
Suzanne

Anonymous said...

Buddy, you are amazing. Unfathomable, unattainable. You are above us all. When you talk (write), the universe is as it should be. You bring the mighty to their knees and elevate the small (but tasteful). I love all epicures.

lory said...

what you said about the coke zero had me laughing very hard. i loved it! muah

lory said...

hey, buddy, you haven't been on here for a few days. did you get kidnapped again? we miss you ; )