PHOTOS AND SHIT

A FINAL WORD

Lets face the facts here. The Protocol's better times are behind. What can I say? The days of unemployment are no more. I've traded in the sweet San Antone suburbs for the hipster-infested, recyclable art-mecca, known as The Capital Of Tejas. So the 'spiration's been meek.

AN EXPLANATION

I sought refuge in the recently incarnated WEEKLY RAMBLE, but became distraught when Volume 2 was mysteriously deleted by an internet goblin. It REALLY GOT ME IN A FUNK.

In San Antonio, the closest grocery store to me was HEB PLUS - THE BEST.

The closest grocery store to my house now is Central Market - while, still a division of HEB, sells very expensive gouda and designer ice cream, with very little alternatives.

The gas stations up here sell hand-crafted, whole-wheat, vegan breakfast biscuits and kombucha tea.

I JUST WANT SOME GODDAMN GATORADE. MAYBE A SNICKERS.

So the posts have gotten dispersed between the pesky work hours, failed attempts at becoming an "Austin cyclist," and the general delusion of life on earth. Plus my gut's growing.

Oh yeah, and Los Spurs chomped the pavement.

Where do I go from here? The vast amount of Suburban Protocol fans are hungry, ready to slop down any piece of slick, semi-pro, nit-wit criticism I'm willing to spill. And believe me, the spillage was once mighty fine. But now has diminished into a pulp of gastric pus.

Yeah...... PUS. <------ GROSS.ORG.

I don't even know what I'm talking about anymore.

THE SOLUTION

Go to my twitter account and catch my lazy-ass rambles.

The Protocol blog may be utilized in the future as a resource for media postage, etc. But moreover, will serve as an archive for some of the greatest internet literature ever to be produced by a pasty, soft, white guy.

THIS IS ALL FOR YOU. THE FANS. YOU ARE THE BEST. GLORY TO THE HIGHEST.

NEVER, EVER, EVER FORGET....

HOUSTON: SUCKS. DALLAS: SUCKS.

POMPOUS BASTARDS UNITE!!!

GARRETT_T_CAPPS ON TWITTER

DIG IT AND GET IN IT

Volume 1

The posts haven't been flowing as well as they used to. The Protocol has taken a one way ticket to dung-city. DUNG. No need to remind me, but I believe I have found a solution. In a desperate effort to revive my blog-output, I will be featuring "The Weekly Ramble." So hold onto to your pants. IT'S GONNA BE ONE HELLUVA RIDE!!!!

While flipping hot dogs on a dreary Saturday morning in front of the bank (we were havin' a party - a financial bash), I was horrified to witness a woman in her 60's trip and fall onto the concrete parking lot. She was laying on her side and her accomplice did nothing but act like a looney tune. What a punk. Anyways, I ran over to her, reached out my hand to help her up, and she responded with a firm handshake. Then she got up by herself. Laying down and shaking hands. Relaxed Shakin. Someone had to give her a prize. She deserved one! So she received ONE BUN and ONE LUKE- WARM SEMI-BEEF STICK.

As a customer handed me their checking deposit, I placed it on the desk, and proceeded to search "Dinosaurs" on wikipedia. The facts of life. Good stuff. GIANT BEASTS.

Well, the Spurs failed. Born again, but not for long. Apparently, this treasured head piece didn't provide the good spirits needed for yet another miracle. Alotta REAL ball players signed this hat. Makes me long for the days when the San Antonio Spurs and Taco Cabana were nearly synonymous. FLAUTAMANIA.

Midwesterners truly believe in basketball. This is an interesting truth. I mean, I might have to move there. They have these wicked gas stations called "Quick Trip" that offer the highest quality of corner store products. Give it up. Tornadoes, Basketball, and Candy Bars.

If I could get my paws on some B.U.M. Equipment footwear or apparel, I would be SATISFIED. Just check it out for yourself. Quite a weathered company. Their website is LEGENDARY.

Throwin' two parties. Theme parties. Wrap your mind around these:

SODA & YODA

The Force + Caffeine Dreams. 100 PERCENT SUCCESS.

DINNER CRAMS

Everybody must show up with a nice entree such as a casserole, roast, rotisserie chicken, pasta, etc. After setting the table and getting the dinner ready, the members of the party will then proceed to the living room. There, we will watch The Simpsons on T.V. while eating chips and dips until everybody is disgustingly stuffed.

SUPPER. SPOILED!!!!

The first WEEKLY RAMBLE. Obviously, I've got a lot on my mind.

Oh yeah, in case you forgot, MAGIC JOHNSON CONQUERED AIDS HIV

Writer's Block

Been stormin' the dome for some good post material but have come up with nothing. Here's some completely unfinished jams i've thrown together.

3 songs by garrett37

The Road To Amarillo ROUGH by garrett37

Miracle In Alamo Town

Been a while since I posted last. Whatever. BUZZ OFF. Just dig on this...



Jesus H. Christ. The Spurs rule. MUEY BUENO.

Comatose Blues

Cooked & Crumbled

A rag-tag group of pesky suburban teens once plagued the Alamo city with anthems of gummy worms, dinosaurs, and wicked island-monsters. These teenage stucco-punks captivated relentless crowds of drunken high school nitwits who were primarily interested in goofball stage antics over the music itself.

Blues-ridden, Dynamite-spanked goof n' roll. Undisciplined mish-mash.

The Inspektah. Joe The Ocean (The Candyman). Dance Dance Princess. Mr. Concept.

The Boy Scout Cookies.

What was once an institution is no more, and has been for a good while. Crusty stages across Bexar county played host to morbid coffins, trash bazookas, plastic jungles, and snack food cannons. A social spectacle for it's place in time.

And what's left? The Music. The Jams. The Riffs.

As it was commonly forgotten, The Boy Scout Cookies were a musical group, not just a circus-like monstrosity. An album was created in the band's final days that never quite saw the light:  

Kakerlake Muerto (I Reek of Fun & The Lord).

The recording has it's moments as well as some chunks of muck.

To the point, The Boy Scout Cookies were absolutely asinine, anybody who ever liked them SUCKS, and the album is completely ridiculous.

But check it out....

Intro/Where The Wild Things Rock

Mystic River

Underground Railroad

Primordial Boogie Woogie

The Candyman (Secret Track)

Who The Hell Yelps?

Many people are familiar with the website Yelp.com. I believe it to be an incredibly useful tool when deciding on restaurants to go to, etc. However, I always wonder who the hell visits these establishments and takes the time to write detailed praises and/or complaints on this site. Some of the people are genuine doof-brains. Some are helpful. But STILL. WHO THE HELL YELPS?

I may not be able to answer for all participants, but as of today, I YELP. As a member of the full-time workforce, I have maximized access to the world wide web. Therefore I have begun to YELP. It is only the beginning. Check out my latest presents to the digital world.

Were these reviews helpful? YES, OF COURSE!!!!!

Talent Spotlight: OMC - "How Bizarre" LIVE

Most people that where cognizant of pop culture in the 1990's know this hit single. Nothing quite like it. Out of pure curiosity I found this clip and am genuinely intrigued. Not completely familiar with the culture of New Zealand. I hear the folks up there are incredibly nice and awesome. Apparently they are really good at creating sand-blasted urban-cruise jams as well.

This live version knocked me into another stratosphere. Full-blown televised production. Acoustic, a capella intro. Flute solos. Full band. Yellow-tinted sunglasses. Harmonial synchronicity. Sly, rhythmic vocal cues. DJ scratchin'.

I really dig the audience's enthusiasm. Their hand clapping even manages to throw the Dj off when the song kicks in. True professionalism.

IF YOU WANNA KNOW REST, HEY, BUY THE RIGHTS

I Have Seen The Future

Last night I had a dream that I was driving my original wheels, a 1990 Chevy Suburban (Similar to the GMC pictured above), throughout the streets of San Antonio. While cruisin' a classic stretch on Blanco road, I lost control of the vehicle and engaged in two minor accidents. Both automobiles (I can't remember the make) were stocked with passengers, who were all severely PISSED about the incident.

Instead of settling the situation in a civilized manner, all three vehicles pulled into the parking lot of Slater White Cleaners, rolled down our windows and started yelling at each other. All I can remember is that I was able to end the situation strictly by sitting on my bum and using the power of WORDS to drive these piss-ants away. Which, in true dream-like form, worked PERFECTLY. I believe the last word I said was "Apparently" and the predicament ceased. APPARENTLY.

To cut to the chase, the pivotal moment of this dream was when I went home and blogged about the occurance. The title is a blur, but the post was similar to this. We're talkin' about DREAM BLOGGING. This is the FUTURE.

Warren Zevon - Play It All Night Long

Yeah, this song kicks.

Dollars In My Pocket. Spendin' On My Mind.

I should not be spending as much money as I have been. Low funds. Medium-paying job. Dollar Signs In My Eyes. Call me a fool. I DON'T GIVE.

I believe I am victim to what the doctors call ADDICTION. Addiction to SPENDING. Out of sheer boredom, I find myself walking the aisles of various retail centers, thinking of what I could buy. Then I buy something. In today's case.... LOBSTER BISQUE. Slurpin' it right now.... DELICIOUS.

But Jesus H. Christ! I must be stopped. I am in no power to do that.

The representative of this costly habit is the American Dollar. USD for the people. Cash for the rash. I speak of the dollar in many different forms. Here are some examples:

• Kronos Bux
• Skinless Greenbacks
• QUAN
• Crispy Portraits
• Salad Paper
• COIN

Post-Bisque, I pedaled over to the gas station to buy a lotto card with some QUARTERS. Here's what happened:

Before:

After:

If you can't tell, I did not win anything. Whatever.

GIMME SOME MONEY

Don Paladin - Adrian

Been writing alot of tunes (or fragments) as of late. Back in the unemployment era, I caught this guy at an open mic I was attending at the classic Olmos Bharmacy in Good 'Ol San Antone. He played this song and it struck a chord with me. Nothing innovative. Nothing surprising. Just raw and SOLID.

Don Paladin - Adrian by garrett37

The Day In Review

First week on the job. Back at the bank, for now at least. Today consisted of a lot of acting.

ACTING like a could give a rat's ass about any aspect of my job.
ACTING like I wasn't viciously hung-over from the Motörhead show last night.

Whatever. The branch I work at has a musical subscription to the MUZAK radio service. The station that was on today played primarily WEATHER CHANNEL MUSIC. Intermittently spinning the occasional pop-rock hit from the 70's, 80's, 90's, and today. Highlights of my shift included Shania Twain's "That Don't Impress Me Much" & a splendid instrumental easy-listening rendition of Sarah McLachlan's "Adia." Both songs really knocked me off my black socks. MUCHOS GRACIAS.

A BARBARIC Wednesday for the books. I'm a nine-to-fiver goddammit.

EVERYBODY! STOP WHATEVER YOU ARE DOING AND GIMME SOME QUAN!!!!

The Doctor Is In

Ahoy!!!

Ladies & Gents,
Without further ado... MY PAD.

I have relocated to Austin, Tejas and am now living in this mammoth-sized garage apartment. Totally rules. No, this is not a boat cabin. This is my kingdom.

I may not be living in suburbia anymore, but the protocol will still be taking effect.

ROCK N' ROLL AIN'T NOISE POLLUTION

The Extortion Report: Shaquille O'neal

Let's set things straight:

1. I am watching Sister Act as I type this.
2. Shaquille O'Neal is a pompous bastard that has never had an issue selling out his image for COLD HARD DOUGH.

Here's some examples:

KAZAAM - 1996

HALLELUJAH!!! I saw this one in theaters when it came out. Shaq brings it to the next level as a magical genie that can make it rain junk food. The scene above is especially spellbinding. I AM KAZAAM!

STEEL - 1997

One man must stand up for justice, with A HEART OF GOLD. Who is this man... SHAQ.

An incredible follow-up to Kazaam, STEEL received a rating of 2.7 on IMDB. The film grossed $1,710,972 within the 1st month of its release and cost an estimated 16 MILLION.
THAT'S WHAT I'M TALKIN' ABOUT.

Regardless of the epic failures of both films mentioned, Shaq raked in the dough. It's safe to say that The Diesel attacked Hollywood on all levels upon his arrival. MULA$$$$

Enough about film let's talk about jams. Here is the music search results for Shaquille O'Neal on Amazon.com:

Not only are the prices impressive, but CHECK OUT THE ALBUM NAMES.  I demand that all of you pay ONE CENT for the album "I Know I Got Skillz!"

STRAIT PLAYIN'

 - Sportin' a PHENOMENAL bucket hat!!! BUCKET HATS.

Video Games:

I don't know JACK about videogames. But I do remember playing SHAQ FU: An extremely shitty video game. A quick scheme to scrape up some cash from all the little minions of the world. Here is the game's storyline (courtesy of wikipedia):

"Shaquille O'Neal wanders into a kung fu dojo while heading to a charity basketball game in Tokyo, Japan. There, he stumbles into another dimension, where he must rescue a young boy named Nezu from the evil mummy Sett-Ra."

There are plenty of other bunk-ass endeavors with Shaq's stamp of approval out there, but don't bother with them. Shaq's got plenty of quan, so spend yours on Spurs memorabilia, a candy bar, or some slick piece of furniture. 

'Till Next Time....

The Petals - They're Fallin' Apart

Here's a music video for PETALS FALLING APART by THE WHIPTAILS.

I pound the skins for this musical trio. A central Texan conglomerate of Western indie crowlers.

The track's called PETALS FALLING APART and tells a story of mysterious sorrow.

Buy the E.P. here. ITUNES!!!

Several songs from the album have been getting recognizeable airplay across the globe.

Dig it. Get the picture. Get on board.

Controversial Chit-Chat: Food Within Song

I am a fan of food. I am a fan of song. BUT I AM NOT A FAN OF FOOD IN SONG. 

I can't hang. Here are some prime examples:

Jimmy Buffet - Cheeseburger Paradise 

Not zucchini, fettucini or Bulgar wheat
But a big warm bun and a huge hunk of meat

Jimmy Buffet: What's the deal with this loon? Quit talking about cheeseburgers you sad sack. THIS AIN'T COOL.

Tom Waits - Eggs & Sausage

Eggs and sausage and a side of toast
Coffee and a roll, hash browns over easy
Chile in a bowl with burgers and fries, what kind of pie? 

One of the great American songwriters singing about eggs and sausage. Gimme a break. This DOES NOT make me hungry. It only make me NAUSEOUS. Ramble on you bean-brained trash mongrel.

Tech N9ne - O.G.

I'm hella fine like the food at Ollie Gates
Strawberry baked bean mixed plate

Last time I was in Kansas City I ate at one of the region's most famous BBQ establishments: GATES. Prior to the meal, I was introduced to Tech N9ne's song about the joint. It did not get me excited about my future endeavor, but instead forced me to cringe uncontrollably. The meal was DECENT. The real spectacle was the food's effect on my guttural region, which continued to produce potent gas fumes for the following two weeks.

I'm done talking about food within song. I have a comedic routine to prepare for. 

I AM THE KANG

Gluttony In The 21st Century: FOOD ABUSE

The Cheese. OH YES. The CHEESE.

My dinner regimen for the past two evenings:

• 1 solid chunk (4-6 servings) of baked ziti heavily doused in hot sauce and chipotle peppers
• 1 hearty salad with cheesy ranch dressing and avocados

Dessert

• A film on the television set
• 6-7 brews
• 3 to 4 hefty handfuls of yogurt pretzels
• Several gulps of ice cream
• Assorted cashews, pistachios, and peanuts

I can't help myself. FOOD IS GOOD.

However, I've put on some poundage since my arrival into suburban San Antone. Lately all I've been doing is sitting on my lazy ass and downin' some serious chomp.

At 4am this morning I awoke to some severely sharp pains in my stomache area. In a drowsy stupor, the only words I could mutter aloud were "FOOD ABUSE."

'Twas a night filled with terror. But I made it through. Have I learned my lesson? I'm afraid not. The food is calling my name. It always will be. And I will always follow.

GIMME SOME GORGONZOLA