Author Archive

Q&A with the Damned’s Captain Sensible

Written by George Tabb on September 25, 2001. Posted in Miscellaneous, Posts

Captain Sensible "What’s he going on about?" Captain Sensible, original bassist now turned guitarist for England’s the Damned, asks me as P.J. barks at him. "He wants your pizza," I say to this bleached-blond guy who looks a lot like me, except for the shorts and sandals. "Me pizza?" he asks as he takes another
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The Ultimate Fighting Championship Is a Real-Life Video Game; Mini-Reviews

Written by George Tabb on September 4, 2001. Posted in Miscellaneous, Posts

"Ruff!" yells P.J., in a tone that means business. "Does he always do that?" asks my pal, Alex, as I lock the door to my apartment with my 8-pound Yorkshire terrier on the other side of it. "Just when he thinks I’m going somewhere fun," I explain. "We are going somewhere fun," says Alex. Through
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Crab Caked: I Got a Bad Itch in My Basement; plus CD Reviews

Written by George Tabb on August 7, 2001. Posted in Miscellaneous, Posts

"Get your hand out of your pants," Wendy yells at me for the umpteenth time that day. I remove it, grab the clicker and change the channel. As Alex Trebek starts the first round of questions, I start to slowly move my hand down the inside front of my sweatpants. To my crotch. "George!" Wendy
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P.J. the Yorkie Goes to a Doggie Spa in Central Park

Written by George Tabb on August 7, 2001. Posted in Miscellaneous, Posts

"We’re taking P.J. to Central Park tomorrow," I explain to my stepfather, Nick, over the phone. "What do you want, a medal for going above 14th St.?" Nick asks. "What I want is to know if you want to go with us," I tell him. Nick pauses, then asks, "What’s this for again?" I explain
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Loud, Fast Fools

Written by George Tabb on July 31, 2001. Posted in Miscellaneous, Posts

"Play THE SONG, man," my high school pal, Scott Peterson, says to me as I gun the motor of my Datsun 510 station wagon. As I do, the orange car with the blue Batman logo on the hood begins to shake. "George," Scott says, "if you ain’t gonna play it, I’m gonna pop in a
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Did Jesus Travel at Warp Nine? Plus, Record Roundup

Written by George Tabb on July 3, 2001. Posted in Miscellaneous, Posts

"There’s no way Jesus could possibly be in heaven," says this guy, Steve, a paparazzo who lives in my building."What are you talking about?" asks Jeff, taking a break from whistling a tune from South Pacific."Yeah," I say, "what are you talking about?"We are in front of the apartment building in which I live, and
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I Was Picked on by a Blind Kid

Written by George Tabb on April 24, 2001. Posted in Posts

I could feel the puke make its way up the back of my throat and fill my entire mouth. Creole spaghetti, burnt toast and chocolate pudding is all I could taste as it began to leak out between my lips where my hands couldn’t cover."What’s wrong, Tabb?" asked Jimmy Foster, as he continued to pull
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Why Chicks Can’t Rock

Written by George Tabb on March 14, 2001. Posted in Posts

Chicks can’t rock. Well, most of them, anyway. But you tell that to anything that’s got a vagina and it will most likely call you "sexist." Or beat you up, as has been my experience. But no matter. The truth is the truth. Women do not belong in rock. It’s very nice to think that
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Old, Fat Rules: A Hostile Crowd at CBGB

Written by George Tabb on February 13, 2001. Posted in Posts

"Come on," Jolly says to the cabdriver with the turban on his head, "ya gotta have something." I tell Jolly to shut his mouth. We wait in the cab for Holmstrom to buy some beer in the store on the corner of Worth and Broadway. "But I gotta have something," whines Jolly, who used to
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Q&A: John Holmstrom and Punk Magazine

Written by George Tabb on January 9, 2001. Posted in Posts

Punk Magazine Check out Punk magazine. Put together by Holmstrom and his then-pal Legs McNeil, Punk changed the way the world looked at rock ’n’ roll forever. It gave a certain type of music not only a name, but a face as well. Now it’s 25 years later, and I’ve become pretty good pals with
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