Journal Entry: 1
Currently, The Alpaca is touring with an 80's nostalgia show, where he has replaced Limahl as lead singer of Kajagoogoo ("Too Shy Shy"). He was last spotted in Daytona Beach, Florida, drinking a lethal milk-and-tequila concoction with Dale Earnhardt Jr.
Coincidentally, Seth recently received a call from guitarist Shawn Richards, in which the words "bail" "hangover" and "damned alpaca" were muttered over and over again. The call originated from a Daytona Beach jail. Stay tuned...
Journal Entry: 2
While surfing the Internet some time this last week, Seth, who claimed to be seacrhing through some search engine—yes, Seth Googles—for tunes for fiddle breaks, came upon, accidentally, so he says, pictures from Spring Break and Mardi Gras ‘04. While he wouldn’t reveal which site he supposedly stumbled upon, nor would he disclose how much he had to pay to see the pictures, he was unable to keep from sharing with the group at the most recent practice at Rent-a-Beat’s house the news that of the 237 pictures he viewed 29 were of, get this, the Alpaca; and in each one, the Alpaca had more and more strings of beads draped around its neck.
Rent got a quizzical look on his face and said, “You know, I think I saw pictures of the Alpaca in a ‘Girls of Mardi Gras’ spread in last month’s Maxim,” which sent Shawn rifling through all of Rent’s back issues of the edgy-yet-classy men’s magazine.
Scott asked, “What do all the beads mean?”
Caitlin laughed and said, “I don’t need no stinkin’ beads,” and promptly raced out the door, yelling, “Whoooooo-hooooo!” while waving her shirt up over her head.
Since that night at practice, Shawn has been sequestered at his home, and no one has been able to get a call through to him.
He still has dial-up, right?
More to come...
Journal Entry: 3
Our Webmaster received this email from the Alpaca the day after we sent out last week’s schedule update:
Dear Webmaster,
I see that you have suffered recently from so-called “unforeseen technical difficulties.” I have to apologize for infecting you with the UTDs. I didn’t do it intentionally, of course. Every contact I have in my email address book was sent an email tainted with Hoof and Mouth disease. Apparently, I caught it from a fling I had in Daytona Beach. Trying to narrow it down to which fling, however, isn't so easy. There was that one guy in the NASCAR hat who claimed to be the lead guitarist of a big time Celtic rock band...
I’ve used anti-virus software to clean my computer, so this mail and all future correspondence from me should be virus free. Unfortunately, it’ll take a bit more to rid myself of this dreaded disease. I’m sure you can imagine how such an illness affects my fellow camelids and me. And God knows we don’t have prescription drug coverage.
Be well,
the Alpaca
Journal Entry: 4
From AP: Attorney General John Ashcroft and FBI Director Robert Mueller conducted a joint news conference during which they repeated the need for the public to remain vigilant in the face of growing terror concerns. Despite his reassuring the public that there is still no imminent threat, General Ashcroft, with Director Mueller behind him, did reveal another “person of interest…er…a ‘creature of interest’ is more like it.” He asked the public to be on the lookout for someone—or something—known only as “The Alpaca.”
Director Mueller stepped to the podium and unveiled pictures and artists’ renderings of The Alpaca and some of its known aliases, which include “The Llama” and “Jude.” He asked anyone with any information regarding The Alpaca to contact his or her local FBI office. He was quick to warn against an individual’s taking action on his or her own; he said, “The Alpaca should be considered legged and dangerous.”
Webmaster's Comment: This still doesn't explain why Scott Carney and the Alpaca never appear together in public... or whatever happened to "Chuck" from Happy Days.....
Journal Entry: 5
From the desk of Scott Carney:
There have been rumors swirling around the Internet and the regional pub circuit regarding my relationship with the fugitive The Alpaca. I would like to take this opportunity to set the record straight. I am not The Alpaca, nor am I in cahoots with The Alpaca; and I certainly was not involved in any conspiracy having to do with the disappearance of Chuck from Happy Days.
The three of us did cross paths, however, years ago, during my retreat to the Buddhist temple, of which I’ve spoken in very guarded terms—until now.
During orientation (where I and my fellow monkies—which is what they call the rookie monks—were fitted for robes and were taught the appropriate way to squat), I happened to see Chuck Cunningham there, bald as a bat and looking quite emaciated in his orange robe, meditating and focusing on the Om. I thought immediately, “It’s a miracle!—a true blue spectacle miracle come true!” Now the most pressing question this side of Who killed JFK? could finally be answered! No such luck, however: darned vow of silence. I tried to communicate with Chuck by way of a Morse code-like chanting; but to no avail. I blame my unmistakable vibrato; it’s kind of like a chanting stutter.
Before I realized what a ridiculous waste it was for me to be looking for myself in a place I had never been, I was able to witness Chuck’s departure. Oh, it was a happy day. He had been chanting the morning away, and, as was the custom, the eldest of the monks approached him and told him that he—Chuck—had finally found what he had been searching for. The joke around the temple was that we’d all find what we were looking for before Bono. Chuck gathered all his possessions into a pack and was led to his animal of burden, with whom he’d travel to the city. That animal was The Alpaca. What The Alpaca was doing so far from his native Andes was a mystery; but I did learn that the local Rent-a-Yak was all out of compact yaks and only had an old gnu.
What happened after the two departed the temple may remain a mystery until the authorities apprehend The Alpaca.
I hope this clears the air once and for all. At least until Shawn comes around.
Journal Entry: 6
As you know by now, Phish, the phenomenally popular jam band, has embarked on its first farewell tour. Our own fiddle femme, Caitlin, went to the second stop on the tour at KeySpan Park in Brooklyn, NY; and whom did she happen to see doing the locomotion up at the front of the stage? She saw The Alpaca grooving along to “Camel Walk.” Caitlin described the scene:
Trey Anastasio himself witnessed The Alpaca's dancing and invited the flailing animal—clad in a tie-dyed Grateful Dead shirt and coifed with dreadlocks—onto the stage. The crowd went crazy as the camel-like creature incited them during “Crowd Control.” Yellow-jacketed security guards rushed the stage as the crowd surged like a tidal wave toward the confused band, each member jammin’ away despite the ruckus. One of the few coherent members of the audience shouted above the roar, “Hey! Hey! That’s him—it! The Alpaca! It’s the Alpaca!” Hearing this, The Alpaca galloped off the stage, knocking over bassist Mike Gordon as he attempted to take what he described later as “art photos” of the fleeing fugitive.
The Alpaca escaped capture at the concert and was last seen at the Three Willows goat and sheep farm just east of Columbus, OH. As far as we know, The Alpaca is still on the lam.
Journal Entry: 7
Ah, that elusive Alpaca. There have been a number of unconfirmed sightings of The Alpaca in and around Columbus, OH. If at least half of the accounts are true, than The Alpaca has overtaken Jessica Simpson as the most nauseatingly overexposed pseudo-celebrity in this star-obsessed country of ours. In fact, Liz Smith, renowned celebrity gossip columnist, has linked the two together on the strength of a unnamed source’s having told her that The Alpaca was seen at one point in Cincinnati with half a Bearcats basketball jersey hanging from its mouth. Poor Nick!
One “eyewitness” placed The Alpaca in Old Deaf School Park. He claimed he saw the creature gnawing on the crotch of a tall, green, top-hatted gentleman who didn’t seem too eager to leave. "Crazy stuff goes on in that park," he editorialized. The eyewitness’s reliability was put into question, however, when he admitted that not only was he drunk at the time of his wandering through the Topiary Garden, but he had also seen and heard a reclining Marlon Brando yelling, “Alpaca! Alpaca!”
Another witness said he saw The Alpaca at Cooper Stadium during a Columbus Clippers game. According to him, in the fifth inning, the incorrigible Alpaca jumped onto the field, raced up to a surprised Alex Graman, and wiped a wet tongue right across the pitcher’s face. If bona fide, the story makes you long for the days of Morganna the Kissing Bandit, doesn’t it?
One tale, however, has the ring of truth. A woman, a regular at Byrne’s Pub on W. Third Avenue, had this to say about a stranger who had been milling around the bar for about a week. She said, “So one night, this red-headed guy comes up to me and asks me something like if I want to bang and mash or whatever. I had no idea what the hell he was talking about. Guy smelled like a wet dog on a hot day. Looked like he hadn’t shaved in about twenty years. So I figure he’s givin’ me the business. I tell him to take a hike and he says, ‘You name the trail, and I’ll meet you there, babycakes. I’ll even carry your pack.’ And he winks at me! He’s got some nerve, right? So I smack him upside the head and his hair falls off. Can you believe this guy’s wearin’ a friggin’ wig?! So, get this, he calmly picks up the wig with his mouth—his mouth!—, turns around, and farts in my face! God! Some guys are complete animals!”
Journal Entry: 8
The Alpaca just returned from the Democratic National Convention, which was held in Boston last week. I wonder what took it so long to get back. (Word is it stopped at the Tir Na Nog and requested “Breakaway” until it was told to go away.) It filed this report with its secret contact within Bangers and Mash:“I’ll stick with Fairport Convention, thank you very much. The music’s better, and there’s a hell of a lot less hairspray. I actually saw someone with a sign that read, ‘Venimus, Vidimus, Vitalis!’
“I’d also like to mention something that was not reported in the mass media, probably because of the prevailing liberal bias. Homeland Security agents quarantined Sen. Kerry for a good bit of time on Thursday night because he set off a number of different bio-toxin and chemical weapon alerts. It seems he has WMD hidden in his forehead and in his scalp. There were alarms going off, dogs barking, clowns piling out of a Volkswagen Beetle—no, wait: those were the delegates from Oregon; my mistake. Once the agents determined that it was nothing more than a little food poisoning in the face and maximum-super-extra-ultra hold in the hair, they let him out to give his address to the convention and, thanks to the miracle of modern technology, to the world. And unless I'm terribly mistaken, I believe the botox and the benzyl acetate have affected his brain: Kerry came out and, after a rousing speech, accepted the nomination of the Democratic Party of Vietnam. Weird.”
I’m sure The Alpaca will find its way to the Republican National Convention, no matter how tight security is. One of the perks of being a PAC animal.
And, by the way: The Alpaca…The Rev. Al Sharpton…
Could it be..?
Journal Entry: 9
September 17, 2004: Remember how The Alpaca crashed the Democratic National Convention in Boston last month? Well, it turns out The Alpaca did in fact go to the Republican National Convention; word is, however, it never even got close to the convention floor. It was promptly arrested right outside Madison Square Garden after it was mistaken for a camel. It tried to explain the difference between the Middle East and South America, but the police officers and Secret Service agents would have nothing of it.The Alpaca was detained—along with around 2000 protesters—at Pier 57, which has been determined recently to pose health and safety risks, including the presence of asbestos and of an “oily waste,” later found to be alpaca dung.
Not surprisingly, television and radio commercials for lawyers who specialize in mesothelioma cases have adapted to the potential threat: “Have you been exposed to asbestos? If so, you may be suffering from a potentially deadly disease called mesothelioma. Have you been exposed to asbestos AND alpaca dung? If so, you may also be suffering from mesothelioma and eusteptinpuia. Call this number for a free consultation. If you’ve been exposed to asbestos or alpaca dung, you deserve money. Call now!”
The Alpaca was released once the convention ended. Despite the fact that he was treated like some common unlicensed animal, The Alpaca harbors no ill will. Sure, it’s disappointed it didn’t get to see the Bush twins; but it figures, “You’ve seen one Bush, you’ve seen ‘em all.”
Journal Entry: 10
Here's how it was told to me:
The Alpaca was herded into a holding pen, from which one alpaca after another was led to a barn, only to return completely shorn—completely naked! The Alpaca was unable to talk his way out of his turn. Sure, he started off asking politely, claiming it was all just a big mistake—a misunderstanding, if you will. It tried to convince the shears-wielder that it suffered from some horrible skin ailment that would only get worse if it did not have its protective coat. Its approach changed as the shears started buzzing. The Alpaca shouted, “Well, then you better ___________ have that ___________ Nutragena Body Emulsion, you ___________ ___ __ _ ______. If I get a _________ rash, I’ll ____________ ______ you, you ____________. If you think I’m ___________ kidding, just ___________ try me!”
Forty minutes later, The Alpaca was led from the barn back to the pen. It had been shaved all the way to the skin; its hair was bound for a company in New Mexico that makes alpaca sweaters, scarves, hats, gloves, and throw blankets. The Alpaca didn’t ________ anybody up, but it did escape once it was let back out into the field. It spent more than a few cold nights in Pennsylvania and in New Jersey on its way back to Long Island. In fact, it suffered below-freezing temperatures all alone, all naked and what not. The Alpaca was so cold on occasion that it chattered its own teeth right out of its mouth.
What the heck good is a naked, toothless alpaca?
Oh, but he’s back now, and better than ever!