The Vinyl Burns Shop

Good tidings to you, one and alls…

As a good friend of mine often says…

“A lot of you folks will have trouble attaching a financial value to the 45 minutes of intangibly high quality life experience that we’ve shared… So here’s some stuff you can buy.”

It’s been troubling me for some time, this gaping void in my multimedular tri-continental personality driven empire of good vibes… an inexplicable hollow moan in an otherwise hushed room of awe.

Now, and end is in sight… a destination for those many weary seekers who saught to see the light reflected into their eyeballs, off a luxuriously fashioned, yet patronisingly affordable trinket.

Behold… The Vinyl Burns Merchendise Emporium.

http://www.cafepress.com/vinylburns

Also accessable vie the usual channels… http://www.vinylburns.com

I wish you all the happiest of shopping… and as a special introductory offer, I will be offering a special reduced price… (I’m only making 20% on these goodies, so reducing it to 10% for the first week).

That’s right, I gots shirts, shorts, ladies underthings, mugs, pens, clocks, bags, steins, thongs, frames, pillows, pet bowls, dog shirts, infant bodysuits, ringer Ts, value T’s, Green T’s, maternity dark T’s, tank tops, golf shirts, pads, stationery, hats, caps and bibs…

If I don’t have it, ask me for it, and either I’ll have it soon, or I’ll tell you that I can’t get it…  GUARANTEED!

You can’t ask fairer that that.

It’s like Big Save Furniture, but without the Furniture.

So I’ll see you there!

http://www.cafepress.com/vinylburns

VB – it’s the putting it on the right hand side, that counts.

VB

Land Ladies…

My People…

I’m no stranger to home ownership, property development and commercial exploitation of the rental tides.

However much of an expert I am on these matters, I like to think that I owe it, in part, to my strategy of staying in touch with the regular folks…  I do this, by renting a few properties around the place.  Just to see how it feels, you understand.

In between whipping up a frenzy of rock-bizz on stages around the planet, I sometimes spend time “re-rentalizing” my self at one of these little places.

It was in one such place, here, today, that I came face to face with the age old bug bear of the urban renter… the land lady.

She pulled the oldest scam in the book… the surprise inspection.

I didn’t resist too much… after all I had little to hide in this beach side hobo shack… just my down-synthesized sub-average lounge space, and a few of my own items, for peace of vibe.  But I was awestruck by here brazen and bold faced implementation of the following tricks of the trade.

1) The “I’ll just walk in the back door without knocking”

2) The “oh, didn’t you get the letter about the inspection…?”

3) The “I’m inspecting you the day after I finally fixed that light fitting you’ve been asking about for six weeks”

4) The “let me just give you another gentle dig about how long the lawns are”

I would never, of course, dream of slandering a particular agency [Ray] my mentioning [White] them here… So instead of writing the name here, I have [Ray] cut them [White] from THIS document, and pasted them into another document, which should arrive in perfect synchronicity with the previously mentioned inspection notice.

[Ray White Real Estate]

Digging you every day…

VB

Modern Times

I don’t know exactly what is going on with chicks these days. I good buddy of mine had the good grace and courtesy to fly a lovely lady he’d met (and her son), all the way across Canada to live with him in his giant house on the lake. He shipped all her nicknacks, pictures, purfumes, panties and other ladies items and made her feel welcome in his urban castle.

I won’t fill in too many blanks, as the lawyers sometimes read this blog, and I wouldn’t want to get him in trouble.

In any case, the long and short of it is this…

If you don’t want to end up sleeping in your own basement on a couch, snorting dairy whip, while your ex girlfriend, the one you relocated, gets it on with her new boyfriend upstairs on your bed, in your bedroom, in your house, filled with her things… and if you don’t want to have to explain all that to the girl you try to bring back to your damp, manky, sweaty basement couch of lust…  if you don’t want all of that, then maybe it’s already too late.

Andy.