Day 14: FINAL TRANSMISSION

       We regret to inform you that Frederick Hagemeister passed away 13 days ago due to a lack of caffeine, one hour after he stopped drinking coffee. Apparently his body was so wired for a continuous caffeine supply, that his nervous system simply went into shock and fell apart. This message program was set in place to calm a populace alarmed by Fred’s passing.
        Here are Fred Hagmeister’s final words:
        [cough] I think the recorder is picking this up…If you can still hear me, for the love of God [cough cough] don’t stop drinking caffeine, don’t ever stop. Head to 7-11, buy yourself the largest drink they have. Tell the clerk you’re not a pansy; and to go out back and get you "The Conquistador." He’ll know what you mean. Don’t skimp on the Mountain Dew: NO ICE. [cough cough], excuse me… oh God, blood……
       Then, head behind the store and buy some trucker speed from Lenny. He’ll be the gentleman with the leather vest and mirrored shades. Blue Bombers, Red Bennies, Apple Greens, Yellow Jackets, Marching Pills, Brain Ticklers, Bumblebees, Red Horses, Dead Horses, Nightmare Alleys, Dance Fevers, Squirrels, Red Birds, Red Devils, Whizbangs, Highballs, Lowballs, No Balls, El Diablos, Trees and Mollets, Skeegers, Smurfs, Snorks, Boo Berries, Zulus, Cheetahs, Guinea Pigs, Scream in the Nights, Frydaddies, Shabus, Black Cadilliacs, Black Mollies, Blue Mollies, Blue Mollies Deluxe Supreme, Conger Eels, Bombardiers, Sycamores, Creepin’ Willies, French Dukes, Sargon of Akkads, Mike and Ikes, ~THE SHUFFLE~, Bert and Ernies, Bennies, Lennys, Squiggys, Laverenes, Shirlies, West Coast Turnarounds, Dr. Loves, Ace Frehely is the Best Guitarist in the Worlds, Ronald Reagans, and Christmas Trees, the whole rainbow. Buy them all so Lenny can retire with his old lady to Tunisia. Fine crop this year in Tunisia. Don’t ask his opinion of the wares, Lenny never touches the stuff. Cough syrup is how he gets his kicks.
       Now, take your baggie and pop handfuls like Skittles, and wash them down with the soda, or you could end up like me… don’t end up like me…. don't ever end up like me-cough, cough, hack, cough………… [END TRANSMISSION]

Day 11-12 of No Caffeine: COMA

      Yes, it’s true. I had slipped into a coma for the past few days, and that’s why there have been no posts. I could talk about the blinding light I saw, and all my dead pets who called out to me; I could talk about that. I could talk about how St Peter let me in, but then I had to have some kind of review meeting with Jesus, and how the Lord was not that impressed with my resume and said it seemed like I didn’t even really want to be in heaven. I probably screwed up when I said I give people that impression a lot.
        I probably also screwed up when I said I felt there was a little too much singing in Heaven, and that I’ve never been a big fan of musicals. That might have been it. Anyway, next thing I know its Thursday, my birthday, and I’m lying in bed. Did it snow this week or something?

Dat 10 of No Caffeine: nightmares

Had a horrific dream last night that full coffee mugs were lying in wait for me as I left my house for class. They were vomiting their coffee contents in an effort to scald me. I was able to spot them each time because they began muttering before I came around the corner. Made it safely to my car, but as I was backing up I spotted one in my rearview mirror, waiting in the backseat. Woke up screaming.

Day 8 of No Caffeine: psychic premonitions

I KNEW you were going to read this. The stars have foretold it. What? How dare you! Maybe I shall defriend you....Well, maybe I should……So’s YOUR mother….Good day, sir. I believe I said good day!!!
[I bow and swirl my cape as I exit stage left.]
[My lovely assistant explodes smoke bombs, unleashes doves into the audience, and thanks everyone for visiting the Amazing Fredini.]
[Backstage I glower and start slugging whiskey. Whiskey is my assistant’s tiny toy poodle, and I beat him unmercifully whenever I get the chance. Thank you, goodnight!]

Day 7 of No Caffeine: self-realization

      I’m Show People. I realize that now. What a fool I was to play The Man’s game. It’s time to hit the road with only the clothes on my back, and a song in my heart. No doubt a scruffy mongrel will trot alongside. The dog can howl accompaniment as I regale the townsfolk with such musical chestnuts as “Oh, Susanna,” “Home on the Range,” and that perennial crowd pleaser, “Jimmy Crack Corn.” The mutt can even play King Edward in my one-man, “Braveheart,” adaptation spectacular. I’ll bet the mayor of every town will hand me the keys to the city after that one.
      Ah, the freedom of the American road calls. Listen! Wherever you hear a crowd applaud, that’s where you’ll find me. Wherever a little soft shoe can buy a man his dinner, that’s where I’ll be. Possibly I’ll also be in your car, stealing your car stereo. Times are hard! No one wants to hear a hobo and his flea-bitten dog sing for spare change. Leap for the purse, Scraps, and it’ll be nuthin’ but frank and beans from here on out. Run! She’ll never catch us. Not in those heels. Not with that walker. Not with her debilitating rheumatoid arthritis.

Day 6 of No Caffeine: mood swings

I was channel surfing and saw Kermit the Frog. Experienced a slight panic attack. Cannot handle muppetry. No, sir. Not today.

Magma. They sing songs in a made up langage about space aliens.