Simple WHA?!

With regards to Monday's entry, in which I described my encounter with an anti-social, militant wine connoisseur, EPG asked what he looked like. I've been thinking about this, and I can't really come up with a good way to describe him. I think ultimately, he looked like a fatter, shorter version of the main dude in that band Cake. Does that seem like someone that you would want to have yell at you about wine in a darkened bar? Take it from me: nope.

I was listening to the local Oldies station the other night, for reasons too sinister to go into here. Everything was going well, until my entire Oldies-world view was thrown into disarray. This was due to a song that the Oldies station played. First, they played Wilson Pickett's In the Midnight Hour, a classic jam from 1965. Fine. Third, they played CCR's Fortunate Son, a classic jam from 1969. Good. In between these songs, however, they played Don't You (Forget About Me), the Simple Minds not-so-classic jam from 1985. WHAT THE FUCK?! We're living in a world where the fucking Simple Minds are on an "oldies" par with Wilson Pickett and CCR? Excuse me while I go and vomit up 78% of my internal organs.

I'm back, and don't worry: I used mouthwash. So now, I can talk about this: seeing as how once you post stuff on your blog, it acts like Frank Stallone's career, i.e. it sits around gathering dust, I figured that I would post a general question here in the hopes that someday, maybe, someone might stumble across it and be able to provide me with an answer. It concerns Bill Hicks' classic comedy album Arizona Bay. Anyone who is familiar with this album probably knows that throughout most of it, the high-pitched, cackle-like laughter of a lady can be heard in the audience; I don't mean that pejoratively, I just mean that you can hear a specific lady laughing throughout the entire album. My question: does anyone know who this lady is/was? I ask because her laugh is amazingly similar to the laugh of one of my relatives; as a matter of fact, whenever I listen to the album, I can't help but picture said relative and Bill Hicks in the same room. This is incredibly weird to me, because she and Mr. Hicks have about as much in common as a bowling ball and a whale. [As a quick aside: BEST ANALOGY EVER!] Still, it sounds so much like her that when I listen to the album, I'm left wondering if perhaps this relative has been, all these years, living a secret avant-garde second life, secretly sneaking out and going to see Bill Hicks and Captain Beefheart performances when she thought that no one was looking. So, I'm seeking closure here. I'll give a dollar to anyone who can help me out.