Engelse hoorn: Niet Engels en ook geen hoorn (niet te verwarren met de
Franse hoorn (die Duits is))

Veilige afstand tussen straatmuzikanten en hun publiek:
- Violist: 4 meter
- Slechte violist: 8 meter
- Toondove gitarist die drie akkoorden beheerst: 10 meter
- 15 jaar oud gitaristje met een Nirvana-fixatie: 20 meter
- Accordeonist: 60 kilometer

Signs you have been on the road too long.

You think sleeping in the console lid is comfortable.

You never use the living room anymore cause the acoustics suck.

Your welcome mat is gaffed down.

You made a tape of the tour bus engine to play at night when you sleep.

All your furniture has wheels.

You have re-wired your whole house to use Hubbell Twist-lok plugs.

You are home for a week before you stop dialling 9 for an outside line.

Somebody gives you the thumbs up in the street, and you look for the monitor desk to turn up the mix.

You lose interest in groupies.

Your clothing no longer resides in a dresser, but rather a duffle bag.

You have actually installed a 3 phase supply in your house so that lighting and audio are on separate legs to eliminate hum and buzz.

Your favourite incense smells like resin core solder.

When you are at home, you ask your parents what is the per-diem per day.

Everything you own has your name on it and is stenciled "FOH".

Your home stairs are replaced with a ramp to facilitate EASY load in.

Stuck in the Eighties (with really bad songs) .....

I was working part time in a five and dime.
My boss was Mr. Magee.
He was six foot four and full of muscles and walked like an Egyptian,
but I was happy to be stuck with him.
One manic Monday, while I was busy working for the weekend,
I overheard him make a careless whisper.
He told two of my co-workers, Jack and Diane, that I gave love a bad name.
Well, I got so emotional, baby. I told him to say say say what he wants,
but don't play games with my affection.
He told me it was hard for him to say he's sorry and not to worry, to be happy.
Then he blamed it on the rain. He was so out of touch.
It just took my breath away. I couldn't fight this feeling any longer. I asked him "What's love got to do with it?"
He told me to get outta his store and his dreams and into my car.
So I figured I might as well jump. I cut footloose, went home and called my girl, Jenny.
(You already know the number) She was on the other line with Amanda.
They were talking about Mickey and how he was so fine. That blew my mind!
Was she really going out with him? I told her that I had just called to say I love her.
She told me she had been saving all her love for me,
but now she was looking for a new love - hasta la vista, baby. I thought
"I can't go for that - no can do! Bring me a higher love!"
I called up some of my old west end girls,
hoping that one of them would want to get physical all night long (all night).
First I called Billie Jean - she told me to beat it. I called Rosanna -
her sister Christian blessed the rains down in Africa and then hung up on me.
Come on, Eileen! ... no answer. Nobody told me there'd be days like these!
I was feeling like the owner of a lonely heart.
Then, out of the blue, my best friend's girlfriend (she used to be mine) Roxanne calls.
Yes, the real Roxanne. She told me she still hadn't found what she's looking for
and that she wanted to take on me.
I said "I thought you were Jessie's girl."
She said "Don't you want me? You don't have to put on the red light - I'm on my own."
What a feeling! I had the eye of the tiger. Who was I f-f-f-foolin?
Roxanne drove me crazy like no one else. She's a beauty!
She blinded me with science, and weird science at that.
There was always something there to remind me of her
and I just knew that I'd have the time of my life. I wasn't about to la-di-da-di. I jumped in my little red Corvette and rocked down to Electric Avenue.
I got my mind set on her. When I got to her house (in the middle of her street) I ran.
I rapped on her front door and to this rapper's delight,
I heard a voice say "Who can it be now?" "Here I am, the one that you love", I replied.
I let my love open the door and was immediately lost in her eyes.
I felt like a virgin touched for the very first time. She loosened her blouse and said
"Rock me Amadeus!" Well, I felt it was my prerogative to bust a move. I told her "I'll tumble for ya!" as I pinned her on the stairs,
hungry like the wolf. Just then I felt an invisible touch on my shoulder.
"Turn around bright eyes!" said a familiar voice.
As I did, Jessie hit me with a sledgehammer of an uppercut that
spun me right round like a record. He was hangin' tough and
continued to roll with it, knocking the wind from beneath my wings -
broken wings by this time. He rocked me tonight, for old time's sake,
beating me from head to toe, until my true colors were
black and blue and blood was spilling from my mouth like red, red wine. "You don't owe me money for nothing!" he snarled.
At this point I was livin' on a prayer. I crawled back to my little red Corvette
and drove home thinking about how my tainted love had cut like a knife -
how it seems that every rose, truly, has its thorn.
No longer do I want to know what love is. Love stinks.

I just got it from a reliable source that this is going to be
G. W. Bush's Inaugural Address Song
(to the tune of "What a Wonderful World" by Sam Cooke)

Don't know much about history
Don't know much foreign policy
Don't remember how I got through school
I'm sure I didn't break the rules
But what's it matter 'cause my granny says
"Boy, if you want to you can be the prez
And what a wonderful world this will be"
Don't know much about the women's vote
Don't know much about the bill I wrote
Don't know much about the foreign vets
I've never voted for 'em yet
But I do know if your dad tries hard
He can get you in the National Guard
And what a wonderful place that can be
Now I never claimed to be an A student
But what's wrong with C's?
And maybe by knowing the names of my cabinet
I can win their love for me
Don't know much about air pollution
Don't know much about the constitution
Don't know much about th'economy
It never much affected me
But there's one thing that I know for sure
If the rich stay rich and the poor stay poor
What a wonderful world this will be
Don't know much about the national debt
I've never had to pay one yet
If we need to we can sell the States
To the Japanese at discount rates
But I do know if things get bad
Dick and I can always call my dad
And what a wonderful world this will be

The greatest Country-Western song titles of all time!

* Get Your Biscuits In The Oven And Your Buns In The Bed

* Get Your Tongue Outta My Mouth 'Cause I'm Kissing You Goodbye

* Her Teeth Were Stained, But Her Heart Was Pure

* I Changed Her Oil, She Changed My Life

* I Don't Know Whether To Kill Myself Or Go Bowling

* I Flushed You From The Toilets Of My Heart.

* I Keep Forgettin' I Forgot About You

* I Wanna Whip Your Cow

* I Would Have Wrote You A Letter, But I Couldn't Spell Yuck

* I'd Rather Have A Bottle In Front Of Me Than A Frontal Lobotomy

* I've Got The Hungries For Your Love And I'm Waiting In Your

Welfare Line

* If My Nose Were Full of Nickels, I'd Blow It All On You

* If You Don't Leave Me Alone, I'll Go And Find Someone Else

Who Will

* Mama Get The Hammer (There's A Fly On Papa's Head)

* My John Deere Was Breaking Your Field, While Your Dear John

Was Breaking My Heart

* My Wife Ran Off With My Best Friend, And I Sure Do Miss Him

* Pardon Me, I've Got Someone To Kill

* She Got The Gold Mine And I Got The Shaft

* She Made Toothpicks Out Of The Timber Of My Heart

* Thank God And Greyhound She's Gone

* They May Put Me In Prison, But They Can't Stop My Face From

Breakin' Out

* When You Leave Walk Out Backwards, So I'll Think You're

Walking In

* You Can't Have Your Kate And Edith Too

* You Done Tore Out My Heart And Stomped That Sucker Flat

* You're The Reason Our Kids Are So Ugly

And my all time favorite:

* I'm So Horny It's Almost Like Having You Here.

Bet you didn't know the Beatles had a Jewish Album...

Can`t Buy me Guilt
Roll Over Maimonides
We Can Kvetch it Out
I Am the Bibi
Eleanor Rigby-Cohen
Lucy In The Shul With Derma
Obla Oy, Obla Vey, Life Goes On
We All Live in a Yellow Matzaball
You Say It's Your Bar-Mitzva, It's My Bar Mitzvah Too
Can't Buy Me Kishka
This Goy
Sgt. Pilpul's Lonely Klezmer Band
All You Need Is Lev
The Shul on the Hill
Your Mother Should Only Know
If I Kvell

The following are excerpts of interviews with the Beatles.

Reporter: Ringo, why do you think you get more
fan mail than anyone else in the group?
Ringo: I don't know.
I suppose it's because more people write me.

Reporter: How did you find America?
Ringo: We went to Greenland and make a left turn.

Reporter: Is it true you can't sing?
John pointing to George: Not me. Him.

Reporter: Do you resent fans ripping up
your sheets for souvenirs?
Ringo: No, I don't mind.
So long as I'm not in them while the ripping is going on.

Reporter: Do you like topless bathing suits?
Ringo: We've been wearing them for years.

Reporter: Girls rushed toward my car because it had
press identification on it and they thought I met you.
How do you explain this phenomenon?
John: You're lovely to look at.

Reporter: You were at the Playboy Club last night.
What did you think of it?
Paul: The Playboy and I are just good friends.

Reporter: Beethoven figures in one of your songs.
What do you think of Beethoven?
Ringo: He's great. Especially his poetry.

Reporter: Who thought up the name, Beatles?
Paul: I thought of it.
Reporter: Why?
Paul: Why not?

Reporter: When you do a new song,
how do you decide who sings the lead?
John: We just get together and whoever knows
most of the words sings the lead.

Reporter: Does all the adulation from teenage girls affect you?
John: When I feel my head start to swell,
I look at Ringo and know perfectly well we're not supermen.

Reporter: What's your reaction to a Seattle psychiatrist's opinion that you are a menace?
George: Psychiatrists are a menace.

Old jazz fans never die they just turn to soul.

The first CD pressed in the US was Bruce Springsteen's "Born in the USA."