Category: Reggie Bender

Top Secret Government Video

“THE STRANGER” knocked on my door at 2 a.m. He told me his Earth name was Von Thorpe; claimed he was from Venus and he had been working with our Top Secret US Government since the President Eisenhower administration. An alien dressed as a human: his skin was whiter than white, almost translucent. He had no eyebrows, no eyelashes, dressed in black: black hat, black eyeglasses, and black trench coat. But he did not seem to belong to the intimidating, notorious US Government “Men In Black.” I invited Von Thorpe inside, but he simply handed me a tightly sealed manila envelope. He told me it contained a secret Government videotape that he wanted me to expose to the whole world. I took the envelope; he left without saying goodbye.

One of the Most ROMANTIC SONGS OF ALL TIME

The evening of December 1st, 2015, I was dinning out with my ex-wife. We divorced in 1984, but I had since been missing the last 29 years (kidnapped by The US Military). My wife, Lyndsey, and I still had a few logistics to go over post-divorce. Lyndsey still needed me to sign some documents, and some legal papers about my royalties, etc. She made reservations to meet in a public place, in case I had one of my episodes (otherwise known as “psychotic break”). We met for dinner at “La Sirene”, a very fancy French restaurant in NYC. I signed all the documents she needed me to sign, and then we ordered dinner. As our dinner was served at our table, a song came over the French restaurant’s speaker. The song transcended me beyond my Fennel and Orange Salad with Lemon-Ginger Vinaigrette. I couldn’t even let go of my salad fork: this song transfixed me.

Our Planet Earth

I am a true misanthrope. I dislike the entire species of Homosapiens. I like certain individuals but, as a species, I despise the entire human race (myself included.) We should give the planet Earth back to the animals. They treat the planet nicely. They deserve it. To add to the problems of giant oil spills into our oceans (as clusters of sea otters claw their eyes out because the oil stings), we have white-collar greed, brutal home invasions, hunger, poverty, murder, etc. We also have fanatical male terrorist SUICIDE BOMBERS to contend with: These crazy-ass, horny fellows believe if they blow themselves up (wearing their groovy suicide-bomb-vests), and take out many innocent bystanders, they will go to their afterlife and get 72 virgins EACH! What if those 72 virgins turn out to be dudes?

This Is Not My Green Shirt

“This Is Not My Green Shirt” is a song I wrote and which appears on The Giddy Statues’ concept album, “NO STARCH” (released 1967). The entire subject matter, of this concept LP, is my wardrobe and dry-cleaning. To my surprise, this song became a single and hit the U.K. charts at #10. A true-life trauma that happened in 1967: The dry-cleaners LOST MY GREEN SHIRT! I have never gotten over this loss. I was, recently, at my psychiatrist and told him about the deep grief I still feel over the loss of my green shirt. He expounded to me about the grieving process, etc. He suggested I continue counseling and to join a support group. “A Support Group for people who have lost clothes?” I responded. “OK, I’ll give it a go.”

God’s Final Message To His Creation

I had been on the Alien Humanoid Bug People’s planet, Kakrafoon, for 2 weeks. The expected me to feel exhilarated after my battle with “The Great Exterminator” I was considered a galactic hero. I had saved my planet Earth and the entire Universe. However, they sensed my dark depression, my feeling of hopeless, my bleak despondency, and my craving a proper cupppa tea. “Why the bloody hell do we need to have the organic life-form experience? We’re all going to die anyway. Can’t we skip the part of being forced to be born, living on some planet to experience tragedy, poverty, aggravation, and The IRS?”

Cheers to “HONEY” LANTREE of THE HONEYCOMBS: The First Female Rock Drummer

In the 50s and 60s being male or female governed which musical options individuals had. That is, if you were a male, you could do almost anything musical: guitarist or drummer, bandleader or producer. If you were female, you could be a singer, but even then the contexts had limits. Very few women in this milieu achieved success as drummers, keyboard players or bass players. But one individual female comes to mind. And, of all instruments, she played drums! I can only imagine the passion for pop/rock this woman had. A passion so true, gender didn’t matter; she ventured into a music world where men ruled that industry.

How To Tell If Your Teacher Is A Mad Scientist

SIGNS YOUR TEACHER IS A MAD SCIENTIST Instead of dissecting a frog, your teacher insists you bring it back to life using a couple of electrodes and a dusty old device called “The Thingy.” The short janitor, who happens to always assist your teacher, seems to be concealing a hunch. Your teacher insists on students bringing in a brain to keep “for rainy days.” Some of your classmates begin to disappear. Your teacher says “they’re being educated now by their families,” but won’t let you inside the storeroom. The new student, Frank N. Stein, looks suspiciously like six of your missing classmates. Your teacher mumbles something dangerously close to “Fools! I’ll destroy them all!” When alone, your teacher spontaneously explodes into maniacal laughter.