How Lord Buckley Got To Heaven

by Jason Eisenberg

 
 

I got a little wig bubble to share with you tonight, called How Lord Buckley Got To Heaven..........

I was talking on the phone with our Master of Ceremonies, Oliver Trager, he's also the Director of the Intergalactic Buckley Maintenance Facility and The Institute of Disembodied Genii, which is headquartered right here in New York, and we were wondering about the following circumstance: Now please try to stay with me on this here..........I can barely stay with it myself..........

Now when the Nazz's Big Daddy, UP IN HEAVEN, was hangin' tight in the procreation business up there, checkin' out His assembly line, to make sure His operation was RUNNING SMOOTH, going smooth, RUNNING TIGHT, SHIPSHAPE, SHIPSHAPE, FLIPSTRAIGHT, NOSE DOWN, CHIN UP, codified, modified, buyselltrade, marketed, in control, size it right, buy it down, AND to see how the scene was going in general, He came upon this Buckley cat on His assembly line there. He did a massive doubletake, took a triple somersault up in the air, flipped around, jackknifed twice, landed back down on one leg, hopped over the water cooler an proceeded to drop his whole cart all over the procreation factory floor an got his mojo bag all messed up and mixed up with all the tickets and recipes from all the cats and kitties he was makin'..........an after he did that he found out . . . that this Buckley cat was OOZIN' out of the man-mold they was fixin' him into! It seems like every cat AND kitty that got made was just a kind of a undifferentiated tissue until it got poured into this MOLD they had set up for 'em an got mixed up with all the stuff from the mojo bag. Are you with me so far? That's good ..........So the Nazz's Big Daddy UP IN HEAVEN, was perplexed and confused.......... he said, "Well, I musta goofed this one pretty bad, this here cat fit into my man-mold about like a buffalo fit into a size 4, triple A, pink leather, ballet slipper with a cosmic shoehorn, like a volcano fit into a skintight sharkskin suit on a Saturday night in Tallahassee, or for that matter like a jet propelled, colossal, bull ring, circus day, cobra headed, king size Gorilla, jump off the 511th floor of the Chrysler Building, fit and squeeze into a Checker cab in rush hour heading UPtown..........except the cab there, the one that he got into..........well, the cabbie there was a little bit TOO healthy and pulled up on his Altitude Meter, all the way to heaven..........you see what I mean..........but on the way there..........Lord Buckley was startin' to get a little IMPATIENT, like what's this gonna cost me, when we gonna get there? and who's gonna be there? all this way an that..........and the cabbie turned around and said: "Man, you got to take it easy, you got to cool ourself a little bit, YOU'RE GETTING' THE RIDE FOR NOTHIN'! And when Lord Buckley got up there to heaven, he rang the buzzer ......... and the cat at the door said...... "We'll be right with you, Mr. Buckley"..........So then this giant golden door slam open..........Buckley walks through..........into the biggest, the wailinest, the grooviest and gonest damn party there ever was and that's the story of How Lord Buckley Got To Heaven.