The Apple-Mantini Masterpiece.

* The Appletini Shootoff: Anthony Saunders (c) defends his Real Kid Radio drinking championship against first mic Kevin Scampoli in a ten-cup, Apple Martini shootoff.

* Somewhere In The World: This Brandon Chaney trademark returns to We Hit & Run. The world is giant, the world is huge... and everything is happening at any moment. We are here to prove it to you.

* Mysterious Noise!, Soo Woo!, John Madden!, CB Radio!, Jim And Them!, Apple Martinis!, Real Kid Radio Party!

* Listen live and interact with the show every week on Talk Shoe.

* Subscribe via iTunes.
* Subscribe without iTunes.

I've got a feeling.

Official iTunes Page.

This is our counter attack.

BOWIE TO BOWIE

I have decided to release the latest WH&R a day early for the Literary Slumber crowd. It's possibly my favorite show to date. The levels need to be fixed a bit, as Sid was noticeable low in the mix down- but otherwise I am very happy with it.

Right click to save, left click to listen in browser -

WH&R Aug. 1, 2007 - 'This is our counterattack.'

SUBSCRIBE THROUGH iTUNES!

I went to the courthouse today for my official plea, and I am feeling really good about everything. This'll significantly impact the next however many months of my life... but who is to say that its effect will be negative? Maybe staying here in Nevada with my family for a little longer isn't a bad idea, and the people I'll meet and the experiences I'll have (including those at the courthouse or probation office) along the way will be well worth it. Life is going on all the time, and I won't be here forever. All of our experiences equal who we are. It gets me out, and will result in Kevin Scampoli being an even more well rounded human being.

As a human being 'living' a life, the legal system is something everybody should experience. Considering my upbringing and everything about me as a person- I would have otherwise never have been found sitting in an Arraignment Courtroom A on the bottom floor of a courthouse. I strongly believe that this will be better for me, especially if I handle it as responsibly as I plan to.

This is all a result of being able to wake up and go to sleep.
To quote Ron Bennington- "FUCK IT!"
There's not enough time to complain.

I have a radio studio, a hilarious radio show, we are partnered with an even funnier radio show- and together we provide the programming for my own radio station. Is this not my dream? I love sitting here laughing at my own bits.

Ching chong, was I speaking British?

My father moved out here.

As young as the station is, it appears as though a variation of Real Kid Radio will end up on California FM radio and Las Vegas AM radio sooner than later. This has nothing to do with my prior hopes of moving to Los Angeles- as that idea is no longer in the works.

Don't start me talkin', I could talk all night. Oliver's Army is here to stay.

Real Kid Radio!

This morning, Real Kid Radio was officially launched.

Sid and I recorded the century club edition of We Hit & Run last night, I do not have a direct link yet- but you can hear it on Real Kid Radio (along with ample amounts of Jim & Them).

So don't let them force-feed you,
and come on over to Real Kid Radio.

We hit and run.

I have always been a self-proclaimed king of pillow-talk - never really a big 'dirty talker' though. I keep it positive, there's loads of laughter. The Simpsons references ('This shirt is chafing me...'), the subtle hints for moisture ('It's like a desert in here...')- the stories are mythical, my personality and its sense of humor run a muck between the sheets. I'll never forget the time my Simpsons reference was taken literally:

Oh man, now my pants are chafing me..."
'Well, then why don't you just loosen them?"

Quite a bit of time was spent explaining the episode where Bart's older crush (voiced by that one woman from Roseanne) and Bart's bully were on the Simpson couch, and the bully was conning the clothes off of himself to steal bases with Roseanne actress voice, a lot more time than was spent selfishly thrusting.

I'm never more comfortable than in a sexual situation. There was a night in Massachusetts where I sung the entirety of Wanna Be Startin' Somethin' holding a woman on top of me, severely limiting my vocal abilities. One of the major highlights of my teenage years- the 'relationship' barely lasted a month.

The overnight gig is treading along nicely. It is the ideal job for having visitors, a very independent occupation where you do your work and head out. I love a job where a girlfriend can visit and you can finish your work as if there was never a distraction.

Since moving to Vegas, one of the major highlights has to be the nights spent attending karaoke at the House Of Blues. Every Monday night at the Mandalay Bay's HOB, a live band hosts a night of karaoke- a set list containing the typical Cure and the expected Billy Idol, along with some obscurer Michael Jackson songs. We've gone maybe three or four times, but the memories themselves are timeless-

• Riggy performing and horrifying the crowd during his visit
• Ant Saunders being Anthony Saunders
• Drinking Jack N' Coke two at a time
• Being rejected by married women
• Being the only witness to Brian Garcia's obtaining of a phone number

And by far, the best of all...

There was one night we may have drank more than any of the other occasions (the 'two at a time' night, with two simultaneous straws cyphering Jack). On this night, when karaoke closed its curtains, our group was disbanded into smaller groups throughout the Mandalay Bay. One such group contained Myself, Brian Garcia, and my brother Jim. For whatever intoxicated reason, Jim decided that a funny bit would be to continuously taunt Brian, get into his face, and challenge him to a 'throw down' in the middle of the poker area. Hilarity ensued, as Brian's responses were limited to 'Yeah, okay' and 'Whatever Jim' as he attempted to act oblivious to the continuous harassment performed publicly at high volumes (with hundreds of eyes looking on). My whole gimmick during this scene was to play the middle man, with the 'He'll do it, Brian' and the 'I got your back Garcia if he does anything' comments interjected between Jim's threats.

Do something Garcia. I'll fuck you up right here, man!"

Face-to-face, face-in-face, definitely one of the greatest events I'll ever experience in a casino.

It seems as though Sid & I will finally be kicking off our podcast within' the next week- or at least recording the first show. We finally got a kick-ass studio in the house, so the equipment is here, it's just a matter of getting the long missing Sid to make the trip. Once it's recorded, its world-wide premiere will be posted on this blog. Stay updated through Literary Slumber. If you want to hear a selection of radio production pieces I've made in the past, feel free to visit the Real Kid Radio myspace, or listen to Jim & Them (Episode 7 really shows the quality of the new recording setup).

Satellite Of Love.

Watching that video, I get the twelve-year-old girl feeling. An image of a big wedding with family, friends, microphones, performances, and most importantly- smiles with starry eyes. No prenuptial agreement thoughts, second guesses, or drive-thrus... just pure devotion. I'm not taking shots at anybody who has done it differently, if you're married and happy then that is beautiful. I just see my marriage on a grand scale, and that statement means a lot considering my former, very vocal views on the subject.

Marriage is a definite risk, and I am not referring to the statistics, my parents, or your parents. I still feel the same as I ever did as pertains to divorce laws and biased courtrooms. I just know myself a little better, and I know that I will meet somebody (maybe a few somebody's) whom I will care more about than my computer, or my dvd collection, or any possession. A person that is worth the risk.

Today, I watch the East Side Dave/Casey Elan wedding production very emotionally. Not so much because I feel as though my engagement should have become a marriage, but because I anticipate meeting the woman that I will share a true engagement with. One I will willingly write vows for, not depressing poems about escape and isolation. It's an inspiring ceremony to watch.

The rest of the show was very well done, Fez was the best he's been in months, Stalker Patti did her Patti Smith bit, and J-Dubs made an appearance.

There is a new Jim & Them video online, for those of you seeking the funny:

Get Happy!!

I know what everybody thinks when they click on that ever-important "Literary Slumber" bookmark, when they take that deep, oceanic breath as they select the one blog on this world wide intranet worth the time to sit next to, pet, and share a coffee with- what's with the sad bitchy shit? What's with this kid telling us about his dead baby and failed engagement all the time? Why is this kid always bringing us down?

My answer, as the primary spokesman for the Literary Slumber franchise, is given in the form of a TOP X LIST (pronounced 'TOP SOMETHING LIST'). This list doesn't have numbers, it doesn't have topics, it doesn't limit your thinking and reading to the number 5, or any particular category. I'm not going to site here and type up movie titles for you people (I love Manhattan, check it out), or album titles (King Of America could be the greatest record ever), or conjure up images of foods (cheesecake) using my words of color.

I'm going to sit back, sip on my stolen Icee, think real hard... and list things I like.

And you...

Well, you're going to navigate the links provided, and share the joy of things that are good with your fellow Literary Slumber fans. The countless readers (fuck off Google Analytics, you can't judge the excitement of the page views and visitors) and numerous nodders have been waiting for this, and I have finally given you all the list you desire.

Enjoy.

Please.



x . ) Boone's Farm
(see 'x . ) Steel Reserve 211')

x . ) Jim & Them (http://www.jimandthem.com)
Some people are just funnier than the remainders. There are human beings who can bounce off one another with the wit and humor that the rest of those on this Earth experiment just can't replicate, and sometimes can't understand. These people are Jim, Jake, and Brandon. Finally African Americans have somebody to look up to, and try to assassinate. Try it.

x . ) Elvis Costello (http://www.elviscostello.info)
He isn't human, at least his brain and voice aren't. Lets all sit here on the world universe web and pretend that anybody else could've even dreamed of releasing an album on par with Brutal Youth, then we can make believe that This Year's Model, Armed Forces, King Of America, and The Delivery Man don't make E.C. better than whatever name we came up with. Second place for the opposition every time. I'm requesting a band besides Squeeze release an album better than Elvis's worst.

x . ) Arrested Development
Michael Bluthe is the father I will strive to mimic. Sure, he doesn't listen- but he loves that damn kid. I am finally doing the 'Season Three Laydown', watching it all the way through in the position of a 180 degree single guy, and I'm enjoying every lonely moment. I give it five x list (something list) stars.

x . ) Clark & Michael (http://www.clarkandmichael.com)

x . ) The Beatles.
Talk about underrated. Have you really listened to Let It Be? Didn't think so. Do you dig a pony? Do you have a feeling? Do you one after 909? I don't care if your answer is 'Yes' or 'No', my responce is: Then listen to the naked version of this album.

x . ) Steel Reserve 211
Drink a tall can, then write your own paragraph.

x . ) Starvation.
Just lose weight.

x . ) This video.

I have no explanation or reason for digging this montrosity. It makes me laugh. I even commented on the damn thing. Speed alteration is the new HIV for we comedic needle sharers.


Keep in mind, this is a tentative list. I might not even like these things in a few hours- I may even post an anti-x (anti-something) list in the morning (I work overnights, my morning is your night). But right now, at this important second- the only moment that will carry this very second- these are the things that you and I adore. I love you for sharing this with me, and I hope that we can live long time together.


-Kevin
Literary Slumber.

Pounders, Night of 6/8/07

Me: "I wonder why this girl is buying me drinks..."

Jim: "Yeah..."

Drunk Guy: "WHO WANTS THIS DRINK?!!!!!!"

Me: "I wonder why this guy is buying me drinks..."

4/28/2007

Music: "Life'll Kill Ya" - Warren Zevon (Album)

The desert was determined to swallow my Chevy. I was miles away from home, off-roading through the Apex, in a car that was obviously not built for the task. It was dark, I just kept my eyes on the sky ahead thinking "Follow the smoke." I did get stuck, but trudged through the mud- it was my best friend's birthday.

I caught a glimpse of a bon fire, breathing my third sigh of relief- the blaring Bob Marley proved that this one wasn't full of false hope.

Engine Off.
Parked.

Here's the hard part... where the fuck is Sid? The scattered groups had no apparent configuration, except that they grew larger as you got closer to the keg. The first familiar face I saw was Suzzy, who greeted me with a cup as if I were her father- surprising, considering she is my arch nemesis. Within' moments it was the fire, the sand, and one group. Myself, Reuben. Jorge, Suzzy, ___ (I leave a line, because Sid has a lot of friends that will not matter in this story) and the man of the night- Sid Vicious.

The Apex portion of the night ends as every get together- a cry of "the cops are coming, the cops are coming". Between my arrival, and the train of vehicles skidding through a swamp-textured desert... I did manage to hustle a listen of "I'll Never Fall In Love Again" - Elvis Costello & Burt Bacharach on notch 11 for everyone to hear. It was only party music to Sid and I.
"Oh great, Kevin" - Suzzy, without hesitation, or a need to confirm my location.

We sped down the highway as if we were chasing a tornado, racing one another with no fear of the alcohol in our blood.

We arrived collectively to a house belonging to all woman. A woman house. Lesbians I heard. I actually recognized it as the home I had been kicked out of a month earlier for arguing over their rule to put the seat down. Thankfully they forgot my face. They wouldn't after this night.

I snuck in my Graham Parker cd to counter-act the radio, and it went over really well. I made as many bathroom trips as possible, hoping somebody would notice the seat up and I would be able to reenact my Ron Bennington-inspired tirade. No such luck. That wouldn't stop Reuben and I from referencing it, reminiscing, and giggling every few seconds. People were in too good a mood.

All but one, a tall, big boned black man. Well, his skin color was whiter than me, but everything else about him would convince a radio audience otherwise. Dressed in camo shorts, and a "Somebody in Compton <3s Me" tee shirt- he wasn't a fan of my suit jacket.

"Why do you have a heart buttoned to your jacket, are you gay or sum'thin?"

The real story behind the heart- which looked great- I joked with Sid about smoothly removing it and handing it off slyly to a lovely woman. But to answer the soldier's question-

"Yeah it does. I'm gay. Is that a problem?"

We went on as such for ten minutes or so. I don't remember any of the dialogue, except that he couldn't keep up after a round or two and became frustrated. Sid had a stoic expression, which is very common for him after he consumes a lot of alcohol.

As the thug got serious, Suzzy removed her belt (which could best be described as Jon Rambo's gatling gun ammo) and stood between us. I was honored, as I'm sure she could handle herself better in an altercation, considering my 1-1 all time record in fighting.

I wanted to get hurt on this night. Feeling a lot like I do now, I wanted to feel it physically as well. I wasn't afraid of being broken, and this was a man capable of breaking.

The situation died down, minutes passed- Sid decided to leave. We made it as far as the living room.

The black Caucasian and a sidekick met us by the television. There was no 'Suzzy's belt' in this room- for all I knew she was in the bathroom with the seat up. He did the "towering over" gimmick,

Staring up, I did the smart thing...

I knocked his hat off.

The rest is hazy, we ended up in a bedroom with Sid on his back gouging his eyes.

What a friend.

We stormed out like Elvis Costello in '79, as I continued to foolishly antagonize his sidekick.

A few days later I was in jail over the reasons explained on the Jim & Them radio show.
I had the privelage of being arrested, fingerprinted, and mugshotted with a bruised eye.

"A buddy and I were throwing a football."

'Video court was the tits...'

Jim & Them Episode 3: Jail Special
Featuring Kevin Scampoli
-
Direct Link (Mp3)
Myspace Link
Official Jim & Them Site

Jim & Them is a talk radio podcast that specializes in tickling your funny bone. For their third show this season they decided to let me sit in and tell the story of my seventy hours in the clink.

Want to hear about the heroin addicts?
Want to hear about the inspirational words of a big black man in a wheelchair?

Regardless of whether you do or not, check out the show to hear a candid, betrayed Kevin Scampoli make three other gentlemen laugh, cry, and cheer. Hopefully their reactions are contagious through internet sound waves.

Have the lawyers, the guns, and the money standing by.

I can saw a woman in two,

Music: "Life'll Kill Ya" - Warren Zevon (Album) / Ron & Fez
Drink: Arbor Mist




Thankfully the weekend is here. The last couple nights of work have been terrible, with my mind stuck on subjects that shouldn't be elaborated upon on the internet. Don't take it personally, it's not as if I am keeping secrets from you, these are just overly depressing topics that are not ready for blogging copyright. This isn't "I can't grow a beard, bleh" or "I wish I could speak a foreign language, bleh"... this is more along the lines of "The bomb really went off in Heroes, bleh".

But the time will come when I will be able to write in depth about it- whether it be because my drunk science fiction twin stumbles upon a keyboard, or because I finally discovered another person's stance and involvement in the situation.

In somewhat related news, I made an appearance on the Jim & Them radio podcast. It was recorded last Monday, and will be available online within' the next week. I came on to discuss my time spent in the slammer. We did a great job of making the entire experience hilarious, while maintaining the true horror of the three days. I'll post a link once the show is made available.

January 16, 2004.
I was thinking about the night Ricky, the closest friend I'll ever have, and I decided to take a train to North Attleboro in hopes of women. This story takes place in the outskirts of Boston, MA. For those who aren't familiar with the area- Rockland (my then home) and North Attleboro are fifty miles from one another.

We went to the house of a friend of his- an asian girl named Melissa, where she was with her friend Brandy. I remember watching Day Of The Dead and pretending that a 'movie fest' was the reason we were all there. It all took place in her basement, and it was the first time I ever saw an organ in person. Before that I thought the organ was a flute/recorder/ocarena type instrument (based solely on its name). "Where do you blow?" was a question met with confused laughs.

We got there on a freezing, snowy night... but we were all teenagers (Brandy being much younger than I thought) so of course we had to sneak by the asian mother. On more than one occasion Ricky and I were hidden in a closet, shivering and giggling like young, cold criminals.

The sleeping arrangements were: Ricky & Melissa on the couch, Brandy & I on the nearby bed. I was very interested in Brandy, and apparently she thought I was less annoying than most people as well. I did not know at the time just how inexperienced she was- I just knew she had recently broken up with a boy. I remember the odd side positioning that we attempted in order to stay discreet, and the nerves of steel we both had. Her for being physical for the first time with a basic stranger in her militaristic asian friend's mother's basement along her friend on the couch feet away. Me just because the last thing.

Ricky and I were kicked out into the freezing morning at around 5:00am. It took two cab rides and multiple trains to save our lives that night. I remember writing my phone number for Brandy on an Altoids case- though we didn't talk or see eachother again for many months. We still talk these days, and type over visiting each other, though the lack of money keeps it unlikely. We've hung out only once in the years since then, a Gilmore Girls night spent with some of her friends. One of her female friends actually assaulted me that night. I wasn't an easy boy to meet back then.

Ricky and I shared four years of lifelong memories as best friends. I definitely hope to fly back to MA and visit him as soon as I can afford it. He is well missed.

This is basically a small update of an entry. I'm still a man of good health, bad wealth, and a depressing, dull forty-eight hours. Hopefully tonight's combination of Knocked Up and Appletinis will provide a more positive night.

To keep some theme to this post- Let It Be has been in constant rotation lately.

With that, I leave you with a song from the album recorded live on rooftop, followed by a favorite quote about me.

I chose this song, because as a woman was crying her eyes out to me a couple of a months ago, she belted out the title and chorus a couple of times. She then proceeded to let me down.

ssix --- siq (8:37:08 AM): You were like
ssix --- siq (8:37:28 AM): Because the wine wouldn't open or whatever you go "Well we have to get use to eachother on a sober level then." and you grabbed my hand