The envelope please (momentary return)

[WMcCue@xxxxxxxxxxxxxx]

Bill's Final Death List
Gold Plated Commemorative Edition
Silver Jubilee Rankings

10. Brett "mr. buzzcut" McElheney. Nothing good has ever come out of 
Williamsport, PA and Coach is no exception. Barely makes the cut, but has 
to be here. Now get down and give me twenty, boy. And take off that stupid 
baseball cap.

9. Thor "snip" Iverson. Nobody pitches a tizzy fit quite like our man Thor. 
He's hot stuff with a hand bag. Charter this, web-boy.

8. Pistol packing package pulling pud puffing Pouya. What can I say about a 
Jason Bonham groupie? His Deep Purple moniker. The annoying "who's gonna do 
it?" whenever somebody on the DG or "Piss in the Ocean" gets a "good" (and 
I use that term loosely) idea. In the words of Pete Townshend: "All you 
want is a bloody t-shirt!" Should be higher on the list, but he's up 
against stiff competition.

7. Eric Sachs. I don't know about you, but I don't need fucking Eric Sachs 
to tell me which way the wind blows in downtown Tokyo. And that story about 
his brother farting in the lobby of the "Mee Soh Ho Nee" hotel in Ho Chi 
Minh city? Riveting stuff. Hey Eric, I had some chicken fried rice last 
night and I could swear the meat was cat, OK? I've had it with your cat 
stories, your world travels, your weather reports, your "rock on' sign-off, 
your brother and all things Japanese. That about covers it. Hmmm...maybe he 
should have been ranked higher.

6. Grant Burgess. As I scan the wasted land of Grant's brain pan. Hello? Is 
anybody home in Dundas? I can see that your lights are on, but hey! looks 
can be deceiving. Seriously, I love Grant. He's a big lovable lug and I 
know Honey Bianchi looks forward to his calls. And where would we all be 
without his concert reviews from abroad ("hi everybody. just writing to say 
that Sophie B. Hawkins really rocked the house last night. K aren and 
I....")  And the latest gossip regarding his love life? Tear inducing, 
heartbreaking stuff. I haven't even mentioned his pulitzer prize winning 
newsletter and his MC schtick at the Zep Fests. "OK, well now it's time to 
get a little nutty with the next Zeppelin trivia contest. During Robert's 
Shaken and Stirred tour, what brand of mousse did Percy apply just prior to 
the encore of Kallalou Kallalou in Toronto?")

5. Lar Burnett. Ya know what? Bless your own god damned socks, Lawrence. 
Now go update that god damned tape trading tree web page. I mean, Jesus 
Christmas, do SOMETHING with your life.

4. Vinod "Heather blew us off" Shankar. Let me get this straight. Two 
chicken choking choads, er, I mean chicken-choking-choads (thanks, Julie 
C.) named Vinod and Gnat go "on the road" to sell concert posters on 
college campuses. They arrive in Ohio expecting a lovely young gal to greet 
them with open arms. But go figure! She never shows up! Women... Good try 
anyway, fellas. Next time you might want to travel under assumed names. 
Your reputations precede you.

Getting down to the wire here, folks! The tension is mounting like Pouya 
approaching one of those toy horses outside a supermarket...

3. Jeremy Mixer. The original 
"chicken-choking-choad-smoking-pud-puffing-pillow-munching-fart-knocking-but
t-cracking" freak-noid. My all time favorite Al Franken look-a-like burger 
flipper. Hot Tuna freak, world class typist, crooner, sex symbol, star of 
the DG jams. He's a heavyweight buttmunch, folks. Very tough call not to 
place him at #1. He's certainly earned it. Oh well, there's always next 
year.

2. Will Palmer. This kid takes the cake, but was denied his custard pie by 
the lovely and beguiling Aimsta in Niagara. Say Will, you should have been 
on the road with Vinod and Gnat. On second thought, they had enough 
problems. I think I've said quite enough about young Will on this list, but 
damn it, he's just so friggin' impressive, I couldn't leave him off. I 
wonder if his Dad is spanking him again as I type? And I don't mean 
punishing him, I just mean spanking him for the hell of it. I know I would 
be if I was his Dad. Mr. Butterworth comes in at an impressive #2. 
Hmmm....#2...how appropriate.

And now, the all time #1 member of the death list. Here's what you've all 
been waiting for. Let's bring 'er out. (cue the band)

She hails from Tennessee or Kentucky or one of those redneck states on the 
Bible belt where love is a family affair and there's nothing like a cuddley 
farm animal to keep you warm on a cold night. 

She inhabits the academic world where no amount of diplomas or citations on 
the wall can hide the fact that she hasn't got a clue and wouldn't know 
where to find one even with a map. 

A lover of Star Trek, Japanese erotica and every other hobby that attracts 
pocket-protector geeks like some kind of super powered freak magnet. 

You know her well. She sleep-walked through the 60s, 70s and 80s and like 
some kind of literary Rip Van Freakle awoke in the 90s with an all 
encompassing knowledge of all things Led Zeppelin. 

Lovely in leathers, inane to the core and on a permanent out to lunch 
break. 

We all love her. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you the mistress of the 
mundane. A model of consistency (she hasn't been right about anything 
yet...) The one, the only:

Ms. Jean Lorrah.

Thanks. It's been real. Congratulations, Jean. And best wishes to the rest 
of the list members (uh huh huh huh huh huh huh huh huh huh huh huh, I 
said...oh, never mind.)

Every day is a winding road and it's time for me to pull over and get car 
sick. Hugs and kisses to all. Hello, I must be going.

With Tokyo in flames and Godzilla approaching the building, this is Billy 
McCue, signing off...

Love,
Billy