All action! All the time!

  It's a non-stop action-fest over here!  Extreeeme!  Hey, know what I did today?  Read some books, that's what.  And threw darts at maps of the Old World.  The Keith Richards book was badass.  I'm halfway through the one about Joey Ramone, and it too, is badass.  My favorite line today (about Lester Bangs): "Then he went to sleep and farted out liquid hemotonic all over himself."  I'm expecting good things from the Marley book as well.  I'm cuckoo for the rock-ographies these days.  Um, what else to report?  Fackin' nuffin', innit.
  So when the band was back together a few days ago, we discussed an old list of potential band names that Dance recently unearthed.  Y'see, we changed our name on a regular basis.  This was partly to hoodwink club owners that hated us.  I can remember us fleeing a venue once (or twice) at high speed, drum parts and guitars crammed under our armpits as we dashed down the street while being pursued by some livid club owner.  One fuckface was looking for us for months, which helped us make the decision to change our name.  Some bullshit about a broken mic.   Anyfuckingway, the highlight on the list, hands down, was...drumroll please...ladies and gentlemen...I give you...The Futtocks! Best band name ever.  The Futtocks!  Tee hee.