Saturday, December 30, 2006

2006 At A Glance

10 Best Albums of 2006:

1: Cat Power – The greatest
2: Tom Waits – Orphans: Brawlers, Bawlers, and Bastards
3: Pearl Jam – Pearl Jam
4: Sonic Youth – Rather Ripped
5: Bob Dylan – Modern Times
6: My Chemical Romance – The Black Parade
7: Rise Against – The Sufferer and The Witness
8: The Hold Steady – Boys and Girls In America
9: Dirty Pretty Things – Waterloo To Anywhere
10: Neko Case – Fox Confessor Brings The Flood

5 Best Album Runner Up’s of 2006:

1: The Decemberists –The Crane Wife
2: The Raconteurs – Broken Boy Soldiers
3: The Strokes – First Impressions of Earth
4: Built To Spill – You In Reverse
5: The Flaming Lips – At War With The Mystics

10 Best Songs of 2006:

1: Cat Power – Lived In Bars
2: Tom Waits – Road To Peace
3: Pearl Jam – Marker In The Sand
4: Incubus – Anna Molly
5: Rise Against – Prayer For A Refugee
6: Drive-By Truckers – Gravity’s Gone
7: The Fray – How To Save A Life
8: Wolfmother – Joker & The Thief
9: Cat Power – Living Proof
10: My Chemical Romance – Disenchanted

5 Best Song Runner Up’s of 2006:

1: Pearl Jam – World Wide Suicide
2: Cat Power – The Greatest
3: My Chemical Romance – Welcome To The Black Parade
4: Drive-By Truckers – Wednesday
5: Muse – Starlight

10 Most Overrated Shit of 2006:

1: Gnarls Barkley – Album, Songs, Videos, Talent
2: The Killers – Album, Songs, Videos, Talent, Attitude
3: The Microsoft Zune
4: Podcasts
5: George W. Bush
6: Anything To Do With Britney Spears
7: Borat
8: Pitchfork
9: Spin Magazine
10: Justin Timberlake – Music, The Fact That He Supposedly “Brought Sexy Back”

10 Best Movies of 2006:

1: The Departed
2: Brick
3: Blood Diamond
4: Hard Candy
5: V For Vendetta
6: Little Miss Sunshine
7: Thank You For Smoking
8: The Proposition
9: Inside Man
10: A Scanner Darkly

5 Best Movies Runner Up’s of 2006

1: All The Kings Men
2: An Inconvenient Truth
3: Casino Royale
4: Lucky Number Slevin
5: The Good Shepard – Even Though I Have Yet To See It

That’s all for 2006, here’s to hoping for a better 2007!

Lived in bars and danced on tables

Sunday, December 24, 2006

Happy Holidays

So I just spent the last week in the hospital with pancreatitis. That was not a good way to spend the week leading up to Christmas. I did my shopping today. Surprisingly enough there were no long lines. Anyway, this is just a short post to say merry Christmas or whatever holiday it is you happen to celebrate. See you all later.

I sometimes wonder if they know that I’m gone

Wednesday, December 06, 2006

The Colors Are Delicious

Is the new dance-pop-punk craze annoying you as much as it is me? I am currently listening to HelloGoodbye, one of the many new dance punk bands that is currently polluting the airwaves, and I have to say, I feel like I should be getting’ my shimmy on down at Studio 54 with a glow stick and some cocaine. This is the kind of shit that makes people like Tom Araya want to stab a knife in someone’s back and carve the word “SLAYER” into their funky fresh beat dancin’ skin. I can’t tell if I hate this as much as the new Panic! At The Fallout Boy Disco crap they’re serving up on Fuse, but its close.

Anyway, I get the feeling that this is the “new thing” for the next 12 to 18 months. It is kind of like the resurgence of swing music back in ’98; it sucks, but its ok to pretend you like it if you are either a hipster and/or gay. Oh well, I guess it’s better than a new album by Ace of Base. So I am now changing my play list from dance crap to Electric Six…that’s better.

So apparently the committee that tells us if the war in Iraq is going our way or not (apparently Americans are not smart enough to make that decision themselves) is now saying that, and I quote, “President Bush’s war policies have failed in almost every regard”. What has two thumbs and is not surprised at this news at all? Here’s a hint; I am currently pointing my thumbs back at myself in a condescending and narcissistic manner and shouting “This guy!”

Anyway, for those of you who remember The Atari’s, they are finally releasing their latest record, which has been on the shelves for over two years. That’s nothing in comparison to Axl Rose, but still, I have kind of been looking forward to it. Apparently the band, which now consists of Chris Roe and five other dudes, is taking a different route than previously. Now I am ok with this, as expansion and experimentation is something I encourage and admire in music, but I think they (ok, Chris Roe) are doing it for the wrong reasons. Just because that part of your life is over, does not mean you stop playing the tunes that got you to where you are right now. But I am done whining for now, so go listen to some Jeff Buckley.

You’re a few years overdue. I spent them waiting here for you.

Tuesday, December 05, 2006

The Midnight Disease

As you may have noticed, I have a problem with writing consistency. I will write everyday for two weeks, then maybe once a week for another three weeks. I will freely admit that I suffer from hypergraphia (the medical term for an overpowering desire to write), but what I did not know is that hypergraphia also leads to writers block. I have recently acquired a marvelous book on writing and hypergraphia titled The Midnight Disease, by Alice W. Flaherty. This is a very interesting read not only for writers, but for those who enjoy books but constantly find themselves picking up and putting down a book over a long period of time. We are driven to write or read something, but are unable to keep an attention span towards the subject for very long. It sucks, trust me.

Anyway, when I finish the book I plan on doing an essay on the subject. I know, right now you are probably asking yourself “well if he just admitted that he is inconsistent, will he actually write an essay on hypergraphia or will he have a mental block because of it?” Well I can assure you, I will (write it, not have a mental block). And if you doubt my claim, pick up the book and you will soon understand why I am not only inconsistent, but why I cannot avoid writing for very long.

Anyway, I went to the Primus show Sunday night. Primus always puts on an amazing display, but they dragged out their songs so long that it felt like they wanted to be Pink Floyd, and their song selection was mediocre, at best. I still think they are great, and Les Claypool is the greatest bass player to ever live, but it could have been a better show. So, that is all for now, I am going to go get Scrubs on, stay classy Sacramento.

If Heaven is for real, I wish you’d send me on my way

Sunday, December 03, 2006

This Is Why I Am Single

10 things I never want to hear a woman say:

  1. Um, we need to talk.

  2. It burns when I pee.

  3. I think my boyfriend knows.

  4. Have you accepted our lord Jesus Christ as your savior?

  5. I just got my drivers license!

  6. I don’t think it’s loaded…

  7. Have you met your son?

  8. Relax, I know exactly where we’re going.

  9. I don’t think that was apple juice…

  10. My dads a cop.

Do you feel like a man when you push her around?

Monday, November 27, 2006


So I hope everyone enjoyed their Thanksgiving. I had the flu for the past week, so I did not enjoy mine. It sucked. Anyway, I saw the new James Bond flick, and it was really good. Definitely worth checking out. Daniel Craig is a good James Bond. If you don’t know who he is, check out Layercake and Munich, both very good movies.

So the new Brand New album came out last week. I have to be honest; I am having a hard time with it. I am going to give it a few more listens before I establish my opinion, but for now I suggest you spend your money on either the new album by My Chemical Romance or Rise Against.

I work overtime for the next few months so if I am silent or unavailable for a while, do not be surprised; I am working 72 hours a week with only one day off. I am going to see Primus on Sunday, and I have Monday off so maybe a new album review and a concert review, and maybe some soft and sexy poetry…maybe.

What did you learn tonight?

Thursday, November 09, 2006

Breakfast Of Champions

You people amaze me. Just when you have me convinced that the people of this country are a bunch of fucking idiots, you have managed to restore a fraction of my faith in you. The elections showed something that I honestly believe most people thought impossible. I have stated over and over again that the citizens of this country are getting fed up with the lies, propaganda, scandals, and war. You people have proven me right. In what can be considered a record turnout of voters, the Democrats have taken back the house and the senate.

This is not to say that the Democrats are going to fix everything, because I honestly believe that they can’t. Bush fucked it up so much that the batch of Dem’s we have just aren’t capable of fixing it right now, and we still got Bush in the White House for two more years. But the fact that the Democrats are taking over is not what amazes me.

What amazes me is that the country has shown that they want change. When 30% of registered Republicans vote against the Republican Party that does not show betrayal; that shows disgust. They are disgusted at what their party has become and the choices that their leaders have made. What amazes me is that no matter how many lies you thrown in our face, no matter how many wars you make us fight, or how much you threaten us with fear, terrorism, and damnation by God himself, you cannot stop the people when they want change.

The people of this country, myself included, are sick and tried of being lied to. We are sick of being treated like children who are told what to think, what to believe, how to act, and how to spend our money. We are sick of reading about our trusted leaders getting involved in sex scandals. We are sick of conservatives telling us that gays go to hell, only to have them caught with their pants down and a dick in their mouth. We are sick of the “I say stay the course” only to later be fed “I never said stay the course”. We are sick of your propaganda, your wars, and your fucking lies.

You have restored a fraction of my faith by proving that something has to change. This is not to condemn the Republicans, because I believe in bipartisanship. This is only to show that when you are entrusted with the faith of the American people to do what is right and what is best for this country, you had better not fuck it up. This month shows that we want change, and we are willing to do what it takes to hold those accountable. How could the GOP possibly not have seen this coming?

With hope in our hearts and bricks in our hands, we sing for change

Wednesday, November 08, 2006

Royale With Cheese

Don’t look at me that way baby, you knew I was comin’ back. Why would you think that I would leave you? How could you say that! You know you’re the only audience for me baby, I swears it. That other audience don’t mean nuthin’ to me, they just a bunch of skanks. I never touched them, I swear.

So, I am listening to the new Killers record right now, in case any of you needed further proof that I hate myself and enjoy constant suffering and sorrow. It took me a while to figure out why everybody hates them, but after doing a little research I have discovered that it is not the band that everyone hates, but lead singer/front-man/douche bag Brandon Flowers. This is probably due to the fact that he apparently likes to talk a lot of shit about bands that he later claims he has never even heard before. I guess selling five million records gives you that kind of clout.

Anyway, I’m excited about the new James Bond flick. Are you excited? I’m excited. I like that they are going back to the beginning and giving it more of that gritty, unpolished look instead of the shoe-polish-shine kind of films we have been treated to as of late. Don’t get me wrong, I like Pierce Brosnan as an actor, but I don’t like what the studio has turned the franchise into. He needs to rely less on his gadgets and more on his training, and the new flick looks like it displays just that.

God dammit this album sucks, switching CD’s…

I have heard some of the new tracks off of the upcoming new release by Brand New, and it sounds delicious. I am giddy with anticipation. I went to the Dashboard Confessional show in San Jose two weeks ago, but I missed Brand New and only caught Dashboard. I’m just lucky that way. Never in my life have I seen so many pairs of Converse All Stars in one place. It was creepy.

I have been slacking off on my new album and concert reviews, and it is not for lack of new material to critique. It is simply that I am too busy right now, but I want to pick it back up so this weekend I am going to crank out a few record reviews, and I am going to see Bishop Allen and Starlight Mints this Friday, so I will have a review of that up this weekend as well.

Well, that is about it for now. I have been sick the last couple of days and cannot get rid of these headaches, so I am going to pray for the sweet sudden death that never comes. Stay sexy.

Ever since I was young your word is the word that always won

Monday, November 06, 2006

The Great Gatsby

There’s the love of your life, the love that got away, and the lost love. You’re supposed to love the one you’re with, let love in, let love shine, and let your love grow. All is fair in love and war, love hurts, love bites, love sucks, and love stinks. Love heals all, make love not war, love your neighbor, love your enemy, and love unconditionally. Can’t buy me love, love don’t cost a thing, love is free, love all, love life. Love yourself, love God, love is all around, and love makes the world go round.

They tell you everything you need to know about love except where to find it.

Come on now, let me feel the gross out

Thursday, October 26, 2006

I Straightened My Slinky

So I was going to write a review of the new My Chemical Romance album, but I just don’t have the energy; papa’s been pretty busy lately. However, if I did write a review of the album, the review would include some choice words such as sexy, awesome, and maybe even delicious. What the hell, I probably will write one this weekend just because I finally have an album that I have a lot to say about, but in short; buy it.

Anyway, if you have not seen The Departed, there is currently a block of joy missing from your cerebral Rubik’s cube. It is as if you were rotating the rows and columns of intellectual colors and suddenly realized that you were missing a block of beautiful blue’s and reds. In fact, I would go so far as to say that the very idea of you missing out on such a delectable film fills me with a sense of sorrow for your corrupt and damned soul…and yes, I do way too many drugs.

The hardest part of this is leaving you

Wednesday, October 25, 2006

Been Caught Stealin'

A list of possible scenarios concerning the whereabouts of B:

- Continuing the fat against anorexia, he ate Safeway.
- Got drunk, asked hot girl to show boobies, hasn’t been seen since.
- After having conquered Swaziland, Molly’s Ringworld, and Meso-po-tampon, he set out on his life quest to conquer Rhode Island…Got lost and drown in the ocean.
- Died of exhaustion after having mad kinky sex with 400 Roman goddesses.
- Accidentally bought Jewel album, drove car off cliff.
- Asked Oprah if she was hungry, she was. And by all accounts, he was tasty.
- Brain exploded after losing political argument to a four year old.
- Got to the center of the tootsie pop, hasn’t come back.
- Was kidnapped, tortured, and murdered by remaining Swaziland peons.
- Been Caught Stealin’…Punished accordingly.
- Body possessed by evil spirit of dark underworld lord Fancy Pants, forced to consume souls of a thousand virgin female nuns, and then forced by God to watch Golden Girls reruns as penance.
- Died of heart attack while jacking off to Golden Girls reruns.
- Death by Sexy!

Teenagers scare the living shit out of me

Monday, October 16, 2006

Holy Rusted Metal Batman!

So I was watching an old Batman episode tonight, and it made me wonder something; where did they get the ideas for some of these characters? I mean honestly, who dreamed up Robin? The guy is useless. All he does is ride shotgun and point out the obvious. And don’t even get me started on Batgirl. That silly bitch couldn’t fight her way out of a line at Wal-Mart. Between a dumb skank in tights and Captain Obvious bakin’ brownies and makin’ bad jokes, it’s no wonder Bruce Wayne is so fucked up. He’s got to deal with these two losers. And the Penguin? What the fuck is his super power? Is he gonna waddle me to death?

And the worst part is that it actually gets worse. Take the X-Men for example; why do we need Jubilee? Look out Magneto; she’s packin’ some serious razzle dazzle. Fireworks! The bitch uses fireworks to fight crime! What is she going to do, blow off some teenagers thumb? Not very useful, but I bet she’s handy during the 4th of July. I can’t believe I have to get angry about this shit. I never knew a single kid who aspired to be Robin for Halloween. That’s comparable to wanting to be President and becoming a member of the PTA. I bet he brings brownies to his PTA meeting too, fucking sissy. I HATE you Robin, fuck you and fuck your little green briefs.

If bein’ afraid is a crime, we hang side by side

Friday, October 13, 2006

Buried Myself Alive

Lots of awesome stuff to talk about, none of which is half as super-awesome as this video I found on Wired magazine’s website. Whoever created this little delectable bit of joy deserves an Oscar or a Peabody, or maybe some Cheetos. Anyway, check it out. Moving on, here is something that I think everybody should be aware of. It is called (RED), and it is a program created by Bono and Bobby Shriver to help fight Aids in Africa. It is a great program and I have already registered and plan on purchasing a few (RED) items to help the cause.

In other news, John Mark Karr should run for office. Honestly, this guy can’t even fuck up without fucking it up. How pathetic must you be to fail as a pedophile? Does he wonder what the other pedophiles will think? Does he hang his head in shame, knowing that he has forever lost his chance at the Sick Fuck of the Year award?

Anyway, apparently it is not bad enough that we have to lose Tower Records, but we also have to lose CBGB’s as well. What the liquidation company, and apparently the owner of the CBGB’s building as well, doesn’t understand is that they are killing off musical landmarks to make way for dollar stores and burger joints. Tower Records is the oldest musical chain in the country, possibly the world, not too mention a staple of Sacramento’s history. It’s sad that the stores are going to close just because people would rather have their music digitally infused into their useless brains within nanoseconds of a song’s creation.

Anyway, now that I am officially depressed, I am going to go and find some good news or some funny comics or crappy porn or something else to look at. So long CBGB’s, and Tower, you will be missed. And to John Mark Karr, go fuck yourself, you sick and pathetic pedophile. Oh, and go check out (RED).

Buried myself alive on the inside.

Tuesday, October 10, 2006

Brain Damage

So I was going to post a sequel to my last post regarding decisions about friendships, but I am not in the mood. Maybe tomorrow. Right now, I am going to talk about me.

I am a freak.

Not just in bed, mind you, but a freak of nature. I seriously wonder what ramifications and repercussions would be bestowed upon any psychologist you attempted to analyze me. Personally, I think they’d cry. I have that effect on people, and it is not always intentional.

What I mean by stating that I am a freak is that I wonder about shit that I am confident will never happen. This shit keeps me up at night, even though there is no logical explanation for this to bother me. As an example, I wonder how my mind would work if it were in someone else’s body. Would I still be me? Would I still like tea and redheads? And more importantly, would I still wonder if I was a freak or not?

I spent an hour today wondering how I would look if I was short. I am six foot fucking two, I will never be short, but still I wonder, as if my height might have made a difference in my pursuit of women or clothing or money or fame or noodles. I need help. I always blame my lack of sleeping ability (my whole life I have averaged maybe 4 hours a night at most) on the fact that I drink tea. Well, I don’t put sugar in it and I don’t usually drink it at night, so that only leaves one possible explanation; my freakish brain is pondering freakish shit.

Maybe I need help. Maybe I need sleeping pills. Maybe I need a concubine to help me sleep so that I wouldn’t need the sleeping pills. Maybe I’m just a freak.

And that is why road cones are orange.

There’s someone in my head, but it’s not me

Saturday, October 07, 2006

Decisions Part 1

We are often left with choices that we neither want nor understand. These choices could be about anything really, and we as human beings tend to exaggerate the depth of a particular choice. We act as if this decision could determine the path of which our lives will from this point on tread. Now I am not naïve enough to think that every decision we make does not have its own ripple effect, because they do. All I am saying is that if we were to remove the emotion out of the decision making process, then that decision would be a hell of a lot easier to make. At that point it would boil down to simple mathematics, i.e. which of the choices has the greatest positives with the least negatives. We make choices everyday, every minute, without realizing it, much less taking the time to deconstruct the issue down to its lowest common denominator.

With that being said, I hate making decisions. Ask me where I want to go to lunch and I will almost always say Chipotle. This is not because Chipotle is somehow superior to all other restraints (although they do make some damn good burritos), but because I would rather just not make the decision. Apparently Bush has no problem being “The Decider”, but that is because in his eyes he can do no wrong and he’ll just blow up whoever questions him. I hear having God on your side helps, but there is no evidence to support that claim. I myself would rather leave those kinds of decisions to the people, but that’s not where this post is headed. My true intent for babbling on this topic is two-fold; one, I hate making decisions and I hate the fact that I have to. Two, because very recently a decision was presented to me that I cannot make for reasons which I will not specify here (but feel free to imagine any possible scenario).

When it comes to friends and family, the decisions get harder. The potential fallout of any choice made will always be far greater than you anticipated or even imagined when presented with that choice. We often think in terms of “I will cut this person out of my life and that will be it. I will never see them again and if I do I will be polite and say hi and walk away”. But we never do that, do we? This is because we convince ourselves that what we want to happen will always be the reality of the situation, and it never is.

Friendships are hard, and they never get easier. People change from when you first met them and sometimes your opinion of who they became is far different than their own. So, my question I am posting to you, and please feel free to comment, I want some communication, is this:
How many times, specifically, should you try and make a friendship work.

Now what I mean by this is that every time you and another end communication, for whatever reason, counts as an “instance”. How many “instances”, or periods of no contact followed by reconnection, should you go threw. What if you are the one responsible for the demise of your relationship with someone? Does that change the count? How about if they are to blame? And most importantly, what do you do when there is nobody at fault? No need to provide specific details on any given relationship or experience, just an opinion is all I ask.

You threw the bricks that built this wall

My Mascara Is Running!

I read an article today in the latest issue of Spin, by far one of the worst music magazines around (especially since they booted Chuck Klosterman), about the surprising drop in attendance at this years Warped Tour. The Warped Tour is generally one of summer’s biggest sellers, and I went every year for the first 10 years. Now here is my question; how the fuck is anybody surprised at this? I have been saying for months that emo is getting old, and the past two Warped shows have been built around emo bands and their ever-loyal fans. But those fans are getting older, getting jobs, and discovering (hopefully) that mascara and tight jeans really doesn’t make a dude look cool.

The market is oversaturated with emo and pop-punk bands. Turn on a radio at any given time of day and chances are you won’t go ten minutes without hearing a Warped act. Not only is the market flooded with emotionless lyrics about emotions, but the bands sound so damn similar that nobody cares about trying to figure each one out. “So tell me, what separates Fall Out Boy from Panic! At The Disco?” well, they have different names, does that count? Seriously, the whole The Academy Is…Panicking At The Fall Out Boy’s Bayside while Pink Spiders in Red Jump Suit Apparatus’ living in Hawthorne Heights try to Take Back Sunday thing is just played out. The last records to matter in this genre are about to come out (The Used and My Chemical Romance), and after that, it’s over.

Now I am positive that The Used and MCR will survive long after the emo scene slits it wrists, kind of like Pearl Jam after the end of grunge. The Used has too big of a fan base and their second record was too damn good, and it looks like MCR is right there with them. But other than that, it’s over. The next big thing (god I hope it’s not indie rock) will come around and have its moment in the sun. This is how music works, and it will never change. Rock has been around forever, in one form or another, and I am convinced that it will never die. Hip Hop I am not so optimistic about, but for different reasons. But emo is dead.

So, emo boys listen up; throw away your skin tight jeans, let your marbles get some air (assuming they have dropped, don’t worry, it will happen someday), wipe off the make up, and get a god damn haircut, cause I am about to give you the most important advice you will ever hear…remember, its down the road, not across the street, and make sure the sharp edge is pointed down.

Ok, maybe the second most important advice you will ever hear; when the last talent scout shuts off the light on emo, you don’t want to be the only broken-hearted metro sexual left in the room.

Did he leave your pretty fingers lying in the wedding cake?

Friday, October 06, 2006

I Wanna Be An Astronaut

I have always been interested in Einstein’s theory of relativity, and especially interesting to me is the Twin Paradox, which is based off of a study by Paul Langevin in 1911 on special relativity. The Twin Paradox, broken down into laymen terms, is as follows:

Step 1 – take two identical twins, at birth, and give them identical watches. We would assume that the watches have a never-ending battery life, and could never be broken or stolen.

Step 2 – set the watches to identical times, and shoot one of the twins into outer space.

Step 3 – the twin travels 86.5% of the speed of light, traveling towards the nearest star system (4.45 light years away).

Step 4 – mathematically speaking, the trip (both ways) would take 10.28 Earth years.

Step 5 – when the traveling twin returns, he would have aged 5.14 years, while the twin that remained on Earth would have aged 10.28 years.

I would calculate all of this out for you but I am hungry and lazy and my brain is fried from work, but I assure you it adds up. What interest me is the fact that, on paper, this is exactly 100% correct (based off of the knowledge of physics & astronomy we currently have. This is not taking into account experiments yet to have been made to prove our calculations wrong). I wonder if/when this will be possible to test on live subjects. Don’t get me wrong, I have no desire to shoot an infant into space for 5 years, as I am sure they would lack the intelligence needed to survive. The last thing we need is a baby sucking on the door handle of the emergency exit just to get some milk.

But if this were to be proven correct, in a live experiment, do you know what that would mean? I a simple statement, time travel. We would have the ability to travel into the future. Granted, it would not be immediate, nor would our time capsule be a De Lorean, but the theory is sound. If we were not content with the way the world is working at this current time, we could just hop in our time machine (space ship) and jettison off for a couple of years. Now the downside may be that this only works one way, but that’s not what scares me. What scares me is that we try this (and somebody will), and the wanna-be time traveler returns home to a world that isn’t there. With the direction that this world is headed, it’s not that improbable.

This sugarcane, this lemonade, this hurricane, I’m not afraid

Thursday, October 05, 2006

Chick Magnet

I often wonder about the inventor of sliced bread. What were the words that came out of his mouth when he looked up towards the heavens and shouted “I have just created the greatest thing since…” what was there before sliced bread that he could have compared it to? Fire maybe, that was a good one. The wheel? It’s possible, but without the advent of cars or the horse and buggy, the wheel was pretty useless. Maybe he just stood up and shouted “I have created the greatest thing since time began, and therefore it shall be used to judge the level of greatness among all other creations!”

He probably used it to get laid too. If I invented sliced bread, I’d be one badass motherfucker. I would walk into a bar and all the dames would give me that “as if” look, but little do they know. I would then strut up towards the wench of my desire and whisper delicately into her soft and probably dirty ear “I am the man who invented sliced bread, and baby, I’m gonna butter yours all night long!” they would then uncontrollably throw their hairy and unwashed arms around me and shout “oh do me do me you sexy bread handling beast, do me now!” this would of course cause mass fits of jealousy amongst the other bar wenches, leading eventually into a ménage 30. So what does this say about the male mind?

Even when it comes to bread, we’re thinking about pussy.

So goodbye, so long, the road calls me dear, and your tears cannot bind me anymore

Wednesday, October 04, 2006

Titty Power

I want boobs. I mean it, seriously. You chicks can get anything you want; all you have to do it show a little nip. If I had boobs, I would never pay for a drink. I would always get out of a ticket. Hell, I would even use my incredible titty power on a judge and get that damn Arson-with-intent-to-kill removed off of my record (the bastard ended up not being home, but all the same, I think I killed his lawn. Moral victory for me!). Just imagine all the possibilities that are beheld within the warm flesh of a nice rack. We could get all the world’s leaders together, ask every one of them how much they hate the United States, and all they would do is scream out obscenities in their own respective babble. But, if you then have Nicole Kidman strut down the aisles of the UN building, her nice features proudly on display, they would all loudly cheer “We love United States of Freedom!”

Imagine, for one day, all the leaders of the world in the same room, broad smiles painted on their otherwise grim faces, as they stare in awe and amazement at the gravitational pull of the eyes towards Nicole Kidman’s breasts. Ms. Kidman, your cantaloupes could possibly be the force that unites all countries in one common appreciation of the world; tits. Just imagine it. Titty power.

Never thought this day would come, you threw the bricks that built this wall

Your Hometown Hero

For those of you who haven’t heard, Microsoft is making an mp3 player. And while one would assume this product of the borg would contain technology comparable of that which comprises the electronics on the Starship Enterprise, it appears that its technology will actually be pretty limited. I loved my iPod, and my Creative Zen isn’t too shabby either, but this new device just seems to be a flagrant attempt to prove to the masses that they actually waited for others to create a device like the Zune just so that they could build off of their accomplishments, but it looks more like a model based off of their failures.

In other news, The Guardian came out. Why do Kutcher and Costner feel the need to continue making movies that suck? We have enough pain and suffering in the world without having to force our eyes to bleed due to the horrible display of acting by one has-been and one never-will-be. It may get good reviews (and I have heard it has), but I don’t care. Costner, retire. Kutcher, give up. Stop banging Demi Moore and start taking acting lessons.

You got to want to rearrange it, keep it off the record

Tuesday, October 03, 2006

The Forbidden Fruit

I have a confession to make. I have always been a Mac hater. My high school used Mac's, and I hated it. I am one of those who constantly bashed them, even though I never even tried to use them. I was, in essence, the enemy of the Apple.

But no more.

Having been using their latest Intel iMac machine for a mere two days, I have but one complaint…I can’t afford one yet.

But god dammit, I want one.

These machines are not mere computers; they are a blessing from the land of tea and redheads. They are incredibly fast, proficient, reliable, and so easy to use that it’s almost embarrassing. And that’s not even the best part. The best part is what they have included in their software. Little things that just make you wonder why Microsoft never bothered with them. Blue screen of death? Not a problem anymore. Viruses and Trojans and spyware, oh my! Nope. Not a problem either.

It’s almost as if Apple has taken windows, took out all the shit that doesn’t work, made it easier to configure and install and use, and then made it look cool. The way Mac OS X works is incredibly amazing, and I am disappointed in myself for never having given Apple a chance, much less the respect they deserve. Sure, people make fun of Apple because Microsoft has a 90% chunk of the market, but how many times a day do you really want to send them an error report when IE crashes or, god forbid, do that taunting “Not Responding” dance. I hate those two words. Hate ‘em.

I know I am probably going to get some slack for all of this, but I don’t care. Their new machines are amazing and I plan on getting one. I have always hated Mac’s, and it took only two days to completely change my mind. I am fully prepared to admit that in the electronic garden of computing, I have bitten the forbidden fruit. And you know what? It tasted good.

So, so you think you can tell…heaven from hell…blue skies from pain?

Friday, September 29, 2006

Album Review - The Lemonheads

Artist – The Lemonheads
Album – The Lemonheads

For those of you who were disappointed with Evan Dando’s solo album (and only 17,000 people even could have been), you may have been left with a feeling that the drug hazed days of the Lemonheads were forever gone. You would be wrong. So what does one do when most people in the music industry (the world?) hate you for what you let yourself become? You get two of the most prominent punk rockers to record and produce your next solo album and throw the Lemonheads name on it. Luckily for Dando, it worked.

The two punk rockers mentioned before would be Karl Alvarez and Bill Stevenson of All, The Descendents, and Black Flag (Stevenson). Not bad pickin's. The self titled disc starts off with a skipper, which is always a bummer. But the original Lemonheads slacker sound starts to creep in around track 2, “Become The Enemy”. “Pittsburg” fits right in with any song of off It’s A Shame About Ray, as does “Poughkeepsie”. There are a couple downer tracks, and “Let’s Just Laugh” is pretty boring, but for the most part the record is classic Lemonheads. All it is missing is Juliana Hatfield.

I have to admit that I never subscribed to the fanzine Die Evan Dando, Die. I know the guy missed a lot of shows and did a lot of drugs, but he pales in comparison to Axl Rose and Scott Stapp on the asshole meter, so give him a break. I am glad that the Lemonheads are back, and I hope their here to stay. I think that Alvarez and Stevenson are the best musicians Dando could work with for their sound (except Hatfield, of course) and they do an excellent job filling in. it may not be another It’s A Shame About Ray, but nothing ever will be. The Lemonheads is everything I expected, and hoped, that it would be.

7 out 10

If you like this album, try:

The Lemonheads – It’s A Shame About Ray
Pavement – Slanted & Enchanted
Dinosaur Jr. – Without A Sound

Wednesday, September 27, 2006

The Black Parade

I am uninspired. I have been focusing more on writing/playing music than writing, and I can not think of a single topic to talk about. So I leave the floor open. I need to write something, I got the itch. Send me your suggestions and I will write about one of them. It could be anything, nothing is too taboo. Well, almost nothing, I’m not going to spend hours writing about Ecuadorian Super Termites. Be creative.

A phantom to lead you in the summer, to join the Black Parade

Monday, September 25, 2006

Shit You Should Listen To! #1

Hello folks, its B here with your semi-annually 75th anniversary edition of Shit You Should Listen To! Today we have a tasty menu of treats to tingle your musical taste buds and delight your most delicate sensual receptors. For those of you who are new to this festival of music, here is how it works. I give you a list of shit you should be listening to, and you go out and buy, borrow, burn, rip, steal, or download it. This edition is dedicated to indie rockers of the past and boy do we have some great acts for your listening pleasure. Here they are, in no particular order:

Jawbreaker – Unfun:
While most people would choose 24 Hour Revenge Therapy as their pinnacle achievement, I prefer Unfun. It is chocked full of punk-grunge goodies such as “Want”, “Down”, and “Gutless”. This is a perfect record for anyone who needs a good musical history lesson into the influences of today’s current punk/emo bands.

Husker Du – Zen Arcade:
While it is hard to find a Husker Du record to determine as their best, I find this is a good starting point. This record includes “Never Talking To You”, which has recently been covered by the Foo Fighters. While New Day Rising and Flip Your Wig may include better singles, this record stays consistent throughout the whole album, which makes it my choice for today.

Pavement – Crooked Rain, Crooked Rain (L.A.’s Desert Origins):
This is by far the best album from these Modesto rockers. Hated by mainstream radio, the Smashing Pumpkins, and Stone Temple Pilots, CRCR has their only radio hit “Haircut” as well as their best song “Range Life”. While the band may be known as a bunch of punks who were generally pretty rude to everybody, they made some great music and this is a record that will stand the test of time.

Dinosaur Jr. – Without A Sound:
Ok, this one is kind of a cop out. Without A Sound is not known as their best record, but it holds a special place in my heart. It has the single “Feel The Pain”, but there is so much more that this record has to offer, such as “I Don’t Think So”, “Over Your Shoulder”, and “Get Out Of This”. Once again this is a good starting point for anyone looking to get into their back catalog, and thankfully I heard they are recording a new record. If you skip this one, then go for Bug, which is equally as good.

Lemonheads – It’s A Shame About Ray:
Last but certainly not least, we have the Lemonheads. This is the record that features their cover of “Mrs. Robinson”. It also has my personal favorite Lemonheads song “Confetti”, as well as “My Drug Buddy”. Also playing bass on this record with Evan Dando is one of my all time favorite musicians, Juliana Hatfield. She alone makes this record worth checking out. Also, look for the new Lemonheads record coming out tomorrow, and I will have a review of it up in a day or two.

Well that does it for this session of Shit You Should Listen To! Let me know if you experience any of these records or artist and tell me what you think. And if they make you hate me, that’s ok too. As always, stay sexy America.

He kinda shoulda sorta woulda loved her if he could’ve, he’d rather be alone than pretend

Sunday, September 24, 2006

Album Review - Plain White T's

Artist – Plain White T’s
Album – Every Second Counts

I always like the Plain White T’s. Their first record was a fun party record, and they put on a good live show. They have that pop-punk sound that is always great for a party or camping, but musically it was amateur. With Every Second Counts, they try to take themselves a little more seriously, and it works, kind of. What Every Second Counts lacks in snappy songs and pop catchiness, it makes up for in a little experimentation. Plus, it’s hard to deny the first single “Hate (I Really Don’t Like You)”, which tried to explain the difference between hate and disgust.

I like that PWT’s have tried to expand on their music and add some musical elements that were lacking in their first record, but when they try to mimic Fall Out Boy the songs lose their originality and, lets face it, their dignity. Thankfully that only happens two or three times at most, as the rest of the record keeps it interesting with tracks like “You and Me”. The lyrics may be a little uncreative (“you and me make a good you and me”?) but the guitars deliver a catchy riff. The PWT’s then get all serious on us with “Friends Don’t Let Friends Dial Drunk”, which will probably be the next single.

I like that they don’t play the emo card, but that also limits them. While emo may be a small field of sounds to work with, pop-punk is an even smaller field. It gets hard to distinguish one song from another when they are all pulled from the same chord structure, and Every Second Counts does suffer a little from that. All in all though they kept me as a fan, but they can’t hold this pattern forever. Next time, they need to give the songs more time to grow before they put them down on tape.

5 out of 10

If you like this record, try:

Plain White T’s – All That We Needed
The Matches – Decomposer
The Academy Is… - Almost Here

Saturday, September 23, 2006

Album Review - Dropping Daylight

Artist – Dropping Daylight
Album – Brace Yourself

Emo is the new pop. Bands like Dropping Daylight and My Chemical Romance are the new Backstreet Boys and N'sync (they may even have a gay member to back up my claim). All you need is a voice from News Jersey or Ohio (or at least someone that sounds like they're from New Jersey or Ohio) and the music of Hoobastank played at faster RPM’s. Add a little mascara and some bad clothes, and you have an emo band. Never is this more obvious than with Dropping Daylight’s debut Brace Yourself.

Now I have been known to praise some emo records, and I admit that there is some emo I actually enjoy. I may snicker at the clothes, but the riffs are hard to ignore. That is not the case this time. Its not that Brace Yourself is bad, its just all been done before. The first single, the title track, calls upon Taking Back Sunday vocals over Hoobastank’s music, which works better than it sounds but still can’t hold itself up on its own. “Apologies” sounds like the forced token sympathetic song, and “War Song” doesn’t stand out among the anti-war songs we have been barraged with lately.

There aren’t any tracks that really stand out, which makes the record sound forced and hurried. It could be that Dropping Daylight just hasn’t had time to evolve, but the more likely scenario is that this is the sound of a dying genre. Let’s face it, emo has lasted longer than grunge and pop, and now we have hit the bottom of the barrel. This record reminds me that emo’s days are numbered and I am glad. It is time for something new. A grunge comeback, maybe?

2 out of 10

If you like this record, try:

Taking Back Sunday – Louder Now
Hoobastank – The Reason
Lostprophets – Start Something

Friday, September 22, 2006

Lushus Nectareen

It has come to my attention that Tom Hanks has been in a lot of movies. Seeing as how I just watched Dragnet, I am now going to list his top 5 movies. Why? Because I am bored and sick and I don’t have any candy or cookies to cheer me up. So there.

1 – Big
2 – Dragnet
3 – Road to Perdition
4 – The ‘burbs
5 – Forrest Gump

Who’s gonna ride your wild horses?

Album Review - Heavens

Artist – Heavens
Album – Patent Pending

I would like to start off by stating that I am a huge fan of Matt Skiba. One might even make the claim that my fandom borderlines the status of, ahem, “hardcore”. I love everything Alkaline Trio has done, as well as Skiba’s solo efforts. Having said that, I am trying really hard to make myself like Heavens. It’s hard. Don’t get me wrong, the tunes are decent, they just don’t go anywhere. All the songs seem to flow together like one long drone, with no ups or downs. Patent Pending reeks of Sisters of Mercy, which contributes to the dull song structure, but that doesn’t mean it’s all bad.

The new single “Patent Pending” is pretty catchy; almost like a punk rock Strokes. Come to think of it, take the strokes second album and remove the flair and pop, break it down to revolving riffs and drum machine beats, and you have Heavens. “Dead End Girl” is pretty smooth and catchy, but the track still suffers from the dull drone of the rest of the album. I know it sounds like I am being harsh, and I admit that I am, but I was just really disappointed. I had a lot of hopes for this record when I first heard of it, and it’s not living up to my expectations.

I will give the band credit for doing it all on their own, with not much of a backing band. Heavens essentially is Matt Skiba from Alkaline Trio, and Josiah Steinbrick from F-Minus; both great bands, but together it just gets boring. It is nice and smooth and polished, so I expect the Depeche Mode kids to dig it, but don’t expect it to be anything like either of the two bands previous work. Let’s just hope that there is a follow up album to improve on.

3 out of 10

If you like this record, try:

Sisters of Mercy – First and Last and Always
The Strokes – Room on Fire
Depeche Mode - Violator

Thursday, September 21, 2006

Album Review - Sirens Sister

Artist – Sirens Sister
Album – Echoes from the Ocean Floor

I was quite upset when I had heard the news that one of my favorite bands, Vendetta Red, broke up. They were one of the few emo bands that went a different route (read: good) and their second major label record, Sisters of the Red Death, is a great record. Thankfully, we have Sirens Sister, which includes three members of Vendetta Red. Their debut Echoes from the Ocean Floor could be classified as the third Vendetta Red record, but Sirens Sister gets a little more experimental in its sound while maintaining Vendetta’s grunge riffs and dark lyrics.

The first single “Hold On” is just now getting some airplay, and it is a good tune, but the record has so much more to offer that it makes me wonder why they chose it as their first single. The songs seem like their more fun to listen to than Vendetta, even if their not quite as good. “Closer & Closer” would fit right in at a bar in New York, mixing their emo sound with a more upbeat tempo. It’s Jimmy Buffet as a 20 year old in today’s world. The real joy of the album is “So Long”, a song about being forgotten by that one you can’t forget. It pulls from the Beatles slower stuff with a piano line that you’re sure you have heard before even though you can’t place it. It drove me nuts until I realized I haven’t actually heard it before.

The record rounds out pretty good. With a lot of these emo bands releasing albums with only one or two tracks worth listening to, it’s nice to see one that has long term playability. Echoes… is not released on a major record label, so maybe we’ll see a re-issue with some other tracks, but for now its definitely worth your $10, if you can find it. I had to go to a local independent record store to find it, so forget Best Buy. But trust me, it’s worth the search.

7 out of 10

If you like this record, try:

Vendetta Red – Sisters of the Red Death
Finch – What It Is To Burn
Matchbook Romance – Stories & Alibis

The Hamburglar

I would tell you all where I have been, but that information might compromise our agents in the field. I can understand how you would worry about me and assume only the worst when not having heard from me in the past couple of weeks, seeing as how I lead such a dangerous double life as a secret agent for the CI…I’ve said too much. Let’s just say that I have been struggling to survive through one hell of a head cold/sinus infection/plague. This thing is kicking my ass, but god dammit, it will be defeated. Victory will be mine, but at what cost? Is it too high a price to pay? I am willing to take that chance. This is the kind of shit I do for you people, and nobody ever sends me a thank you or some cookies. I feel so unappreciated.

Every time I call you’re running out the door

Tuesday, September 05, 2006

The Wickerman

The Wickerman.

I’m going to let that title sink in for a few moments…

Got it? Ok, now here’s the hard part; will somebody tell me what the fucking purpose of this movie is? I mean I enjoyed the movie, don’t get me wrong. But it just feels like Silent Hill without the blood and freakiness. Did I learn something from this film? Yes, I learned that if I ever meet a girl in a bar and she wants me to take her home she is probably part of a cul…I’ve said too much.

If you want to find out what’s behind these cold eyes, you’ll just have to claw your way through this disguise

Monday, August 28, 2006

Cats Cradle

I was reading a very interesting article today in the latest issue of Rolling Stone, and it made me kind of sad. The interview was with Kurt Vonnegut, who is by far one of the greatest writers of the last century. His novels Cats Cradle and Slaughterhouse Five are among some of the greatest pieces of American literature, and if you have never read them I suggest you forgo the next pitcher of beer and use that money towards the purchase of either of these novels. They are well worth their price.

What made me sad was the realization that we will soon be losing another great writer. And let’s face it; we’re running out of the good ones. I would gladly trade all the Nora Roberts’ in the world for just one more Tom Robbins, Vonnegut, Dickenson, or Kafka. It may be a sad truth, but it’s the truth none the less; they just don’t make them like they used to.

What separated Vonnegut from his peers and predecessors was not just his format (using short paragraphs as a way to hold a readers attention and such) but his descriptive story telling of blending futuristic society’s with today’s modern life. We could see his characters and civilizations clearly in our head as if they were a normal part of our life, even though they never existed to begin with.

Vonnegut is (or more accurately, was) working on a new novel titled If God Were Alive Today, but he claims he has given up on it. Given Vonnegut’s gloomy outlook on life, I don’t doubt his claim, but it’s a shame. It would be nice to see him put out one more novel. But if that never happens, he can at least take comfort in the knowledge that he has written timeless masterpieces that will never lose their relevance. Check out the interview if you get a chance, and if you haven’t already, pick up one of his books and be prepared to have the door to your mind kicked open.

Can I just have one more moondance with you, my love?

Another Round

I love beer. That is no secret. However, it appears that my body doesn’t give a shit that I like beer. As of now (or more accurately, since I was born) I am no longer allowed to drink alcohol. At all. Ever. No more drunken escapades, no more havin’ a beer and watching the game, none of that. God hates me.

Karma police, arrest this man

Sunday, August 27, 2006


How I spent my Saturday:

6 am – waking up

6:30 am – my parents picking me up to take me to the hospital

7 am – getting to the hospital

7:30 – having an IV put in my wrist, a bunch of cords attached to me via sticky circles with clamps on them to connect me to some machine

8 am – having my throat sprayed with some shit that tastes like bananas that numbs my throat so it feels weird to swallow and kind of stings a little

8:30 – being slightly (but not enough) sedated while a doctor sticks a thick camera attached to a tube down my throat as he injects veins inside my throat to stop internal bleeding…and he didn’t even take me to dinner and a movie(

8:40 – doctor pulls tube out only to make me swallow it again for yet another round of injections

8:45 – doctor plays with tube for shits and giggles

9 am – doctor pulls tube out of my throat as I pass out hoping for nothing more than the sweet icy cold hand of death to brush across my shoulders, but I’m not that lucky

9:30 – I go home and pass the fuck out.

Now that’s how I spell fun!

You could be my Yoko Ono

Saturday, August 26, 2006

Album Review - Stone Sour

Artist – Stone Sour
Album – Come What (ever) May

It’s always nice to hear that a member of Slipknot has a side project. In fact, I’m surprised that it doesn’t happen far more often. I mean, they have more than enough band members to spawn a career’s worth of side project material. However, it seems that Corey Taylor is the only one doing anything worth talking about and that is putting out records with his original band, Stone Sour. Their second release is a step up from their debut, but it still lacks the originality it needs to separate itself from the Saliva-Soil cliché. While Stone Sour may reek of radio-friendly rock, their songs are better than the aforementioned bands could hope for.

Starting off Come What (ever) May is a track called “30/30-150”, and while I don’t know what the hell that may stand for, it’s a good solid rock tune. Musically the record has hints of Slipknot, which I guess is only natural, but tracks like “Hell & Consequences” and the hit single “Through Glass” are far catchier than “Wait and Bleed”. The drums are easier on the ears and the guitars have a more traditional hard rock feel, which is always nice after banging your skull into a trashcan lid for an hour while listening to Slipknot talk about killing you in the least of romantic ways. They also manage to keep the heavy with only five members, which makes me question the validity of the other five Slipknot scary boys, but I guess someone has to dance on stage.

The highlight of Come… is the last track “Zzyxz Rd.” which kind of reminds me of Motley Crue’s “Home Sweet Home” only nowhere near as cheesy. The track consists mostly of piano and Taylor’s lyrics about missing his wife and kids, but when the drums and acoustic guitar kick in it adds a sense of genuine grief. This track also has the best line I have heard in a while “they throw me a bone just to pick me dry”, which is clever considering the subject matter. All in all it’s a pretty good record; I just hope that they find a way to separate themselves from the rest of the pack.

7 out of 10

If you like this record, try:

Stone Sour – Stone Sour
Slipknot – Iowa
Cold – The Year of the Spider

Thursday, August 24, 2006

Fuck Red Lights

Why does weird shit always happen to me? I mean seriously, it’s like all the streetlights turn red once they see the hood of my Mustang rolling down the road. As if they are all conspiring with one another to prevent me from getting to my ultimate destination. They laugh at my sorrow as I sit at the light, with no cars to be seen within miles, all alone with my music and my red fucking light. The red light just stares, as if daring me to run it so that some donut-eating ticket-writing mustache-wearing douche bag can fly out of nowhere like Starsky & Hutch. Then he’ll condescendingly walk up to my window and as me where the fire is, while he chuckles at his cleverness. He’ll write me a ticket for running a light that never should have been red in the first place, all so that the red light can have some fun at my expense. I hate you red light, I hate you like I hate Nazis. Fuck red lights; fuck them in their stupid asses.

Pressure, pushing down on me, pressing down on you

Monday, August 21, 2006

I'm Alive!

Yes it is true, there is still life left in this body. I was rushed to the hospital by the nice ambulance folks last night because I thought it would be cool to throw up a lot of blood. I mean, all the cool kids are doing it, right? Anyway, I am back to life and at home and still feeling like shit but getting better. Thanks go to Cole for staying with me incase I threw up again and inevitably going to the emergency room with me, and Leah for watching over me as I am kind of a baby and am in constant need of comforting. Maybe tomorrow I can actually write something.

I know that this can be more than just flashing lights and sounds.

Friday, August 18, 2006

Statistically Speaking

This is an interesting article I found that showcases the impact blogging has had on society in America. I find it shocking that 62% of online Americans do not know what a blog is, as I would assume that it would be near impossible to perform a random search and not have a blog appear as a top result. The information that the blogosphere holds is vastly approaching, if not surpassing the standard information channels such as news websites. Now I will admit that the majority of the information in opinionated, but I imagine that the casual blog reader generally only looks for information within the context of his or her own political or social bias. If one were to research information on their favorite Republican politician, the Huffington Post is hardly their first choice.

It is important to remember that this article is over a year old, but I have been unable to locate any recent information based off of the same survey, assuming that it is a yearly process. If anybody knows of an updated list of blogging statistics please be so kind as to forward me the address, as this is something that greatly interests me. On a side note, I have received my Windows Vista beta disks and will be checking it out thoroughly through out the next few weeks. Here is a link to the Windows Vista weblog for those who are interested.

Never thought this day would come, you threw the bricks that built this wall

Wednesday, August 16, 2006

I'll Have The Special

We’ve all had a job that, in a word, sucked. Mopping floors, flipping burgers, working as a register biscuit at Wal Mart, asking “do you want fries with that?” These jobs, or so we were lead to believe by our parents, elders, and Calvin’s dad, were there to build our character and teach us some responsibility. I don’t know about you, but deep frying potatoes and squirting the secret sauce onto an unappetizing looking disk of dough never seemed like a Zen experience for me, but I never knew how lucky I was. And now, with the recent surge in reality television, I can experience someone else’s misery at my own pleasure and be thankful that my job could be much, much worse. Welcome to Dirty Jobs, the Discovery Channel’s way of showing the jobs that really do suck.

What makes the show so impressive is not necessarily the content, but the way American audiences have grasped it and raised it to the top of the Discovery Channel’s charts. We all know audiences occasionally like to see real reality, as the History Channel and the Discovery Channel have managed to stay on the air for so long with competition like American Idol and every other terrible reality show out there. Where the networks show us soon-to-be-pop stars before they become soon-to-be-coked out groupie shagging pop stars, Dirty Jobs shows us life through the eyes of a worker with a job you don’t want in an industry you may not have known existed. This is what separates reality from “reality”.

Have you ever wondered what happens to road kill as you whiz by it on the highway? Dirty Jobs, and its host Mike Rowe show us the brave men and women who get to answer that question. Ever wanted to be a catfish noodler and just didn’t know where to begin your career? Ever even heard of a catfish noodler? Dirty Jobs shows the unaware just what a catfish noodler does, and is a good jumping off point for soon-to-be catfish noodlers. Oh, and in case you are wondering just what a catfish noodler does, here’s a brief job description taken from the Discovery Channel’s website:

Catfish Noodler: In search of people who can catch potentially 100-pound catfish with their hands only. Must not mind sticking limbs in holes in search of game and getting bitten as a result.
Before you decide to scream at your career counselor for not informing you of the potential benefits that await future Avian Vomitologists (I’m not kidding, this is a person who spends their days collecting owl vomit), you may want to catch the show and see exactly what it is these people do. While the perks of the job are jokingly poked at, the episodes mainly focus on the dirty side of the jobs. Where as the resume and job postings are the employment glass as half full, Dirty Jobs shows the half empty side of it, and I believe that this is what appeals to the audience. We are force fed reality TV that we know is not real. With Dirty Jobs, we get to see the action, in all its glory (or ugliness) and how these people really do jobs that would make most of us decide to skip lunch.

Gross out television has always been successful, even if only because these sights and sounds so rarely visit our lives. We never get to see the termite collector in action; we just assume he does his job. Well now we can see how a skull cleaner cleans skulls, and what exactly it is that a sausage maker puts in sausage (I would advise discretion for fans of sausage on this one). Dirty Jobs is a very interesting show to watch, but I stress that it is not for the weak of stomach. If you don’t mind seeing things that would make others vomit (including yours truly) then check it out on the Discovery Channel on Tuesdays at 9 pm ET/PT. Just don’t say I didn’t warn you.

Will I ever forget to remember

Monday, August 14, 2006

My Alter Ego

Remember when applying for a job was easy? You would walk in and pick up an application, hoping that the person at the counter wasn’t looking at you and thinking “as if”, fill it out (remember to capitalize!) and return it to the same person who would inevitably be mildly amused that you filled the damn thing out in the first place. Then the waiting…and waiting. As Tom Petty said, the waiting is the hardest part. Well now that the blogosphere is world wide and expanding into every commercial nook and cranny it can wedge its way into, you can get rejection so much faster! Just imagine, you could discover in just hours that your opinion of the aardvark and its seasonal mating habits disqualifies you to work at Taco Bell! How exciting indeed!

Now that employers have accepted the fact that people like to vent online (and do so on occasion while pretending to work), the blogosphere has essentially allowed them the freedom to weed out those who have different political, social, musical, or even arbitrary bullshit-al opinions than those respective Keyboard Commando’s whose job it is to reject ulllltlrahotriotgirl because she likes chicks, cocaine, and shitty techno music (not that I don’t understand the cocaine part). They are now able to practice a selection process that has been outlawed in this country for many, many years. I’m sure there’s a book out there somewhere that explains just how many years many, many is; go look it up.

If an employer discovers that an employee or prospective employee has a blog, they are going to read it. Do not assume they won’t, because they will. And no, filling the most recent page of your blog with posts about how much you love said company even though 4 month’s ago you labeled the CEO a “douche bag” does not help. They are not that stupid (I hope). What this does is give the employers an inside look at you, and if your blog is of the, ahem, “freaky & kinky” type, don’t expect Borders Books to call you back.

The only advice I can offer is this; if it’s a creative, out-of-the-box thinking, or “alternative subjects” blog, use a pseudonym, like Mrs. Pain the Masochist, or Mark the Mangler. Also, title your blog appropriately (Dave the Dominatrix Next Door perhaps?) for your subject, and do not reveal any personal information, even if that hot 19 year old asks A/S/L at the end of every comment.

Then, just create a second blog about the profession you are interested in entering. If it’s IT, talk about IT. If its politics or mathematical statistics, talk about the industry and current events surrounding those subjects. This helps show that you are actually interested in your chosen field, and even if you don’t get the job, you might get another reader who will keep you in mind down the road. If your chosen profession is professional cow wrangler, I don’t think this rule would necessarily apply, so choose carefully.
All I am saying is that history has proven that legality does not determine practice. It may be illegal to not hire someone based on their personal opinions, but that does not mean it won’t happen. So keep your eye on the ball (gag ball?) and keep your comments where they belong. My posts about music do not go in my blog about blogging (redundant?) but they do go in my personal blog and my music blog. My posts about the ever growing threat of the infestation in Papua New Guinea of killer man-size alien robotic eroticons whose sole purpose is to enslave humans for feeding and strategic breeding purposes…that we don’t talk about. It just hurts so damn much.

Lived in bars and danced on tables

Shameless Plug

I would like to direct your attention to Kicks N Licks, a new online magazine that I am currently contributing some material to. The article on the front page is my first, and there will hopefully be many more to come. Either way, check it out. I promise I will post something more succulent within the next 24 hours.

Oh shit I got a headrush

Thursday, August 10, 2006

My Free Spam Part 2

Status: Complete Failure

Well, as we all expected, the radio lied. I never got my password emailed to me after requesting it a dozen times, and I don’t expect a laptop to miraculously show up at my door. Now I know you are all wondering why I did this if I knew this is how it would turn out, and I have an answer for you; because I hate myself. Well, that and the fact that out of all the schemes one could get themselves caught up in, this one was actually advertised on public radio. This is what fascinates me about this little experiment; how a company could use public media over the airwaves for something like this. It’s not like they sent me a spam email promising me the world (and a laptop), they actually paid an advertising agency money to tell us about their “great offer”. I had never heard of that before. I mean sure, it has happened before, but in the times we live in now, with lawsuits popping up like mushrooms, you would figure somebody would call foul.

So I obviously don’t need to advise you to try this at home, as I am not a professional and you are probably smart enough to not try it anyway. So I will just move on to my next subject, Reddit. This is a nifty little site that feeds subject lines onto your page about popular posts, and lets you submit posts for others to check out. Give it a try and see if it works out for you, I’m off to study for my A+ exam.

We all float on

Black On Black

One would assume that after 230 years of being a country, the color of a candidate would no longer be an issue. Well, it appears that in the Maryland Senate race, their making it one. Republican candidate Michael Steele made a comment that was described by Democratic Party Chairman Terry Lierman as “race baiting as a way to divide the voters of Maryland” when Steele asked a national news magazine who would serve them better, “(someone) who represents all the people, or just one particular race?” This comment was taken by Maryland Democrats to mean that Democratic candidate Kweisi Mfume would represent only black voters, seeing as how Mfume, a former member of Congress, is the head of the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People (NAACP).

Steele’s campaign spokeswoman Melissa Sellers gave an explanation by saying Steele “is running to represent Marylanders of every race, economic status, and from every region of the state.” This is where one would normally cry foul, as the comment above could be construed as racist. There’s just one problem to that theory; both candidates are black. If Steele is to win the Republican nomination, and Mfume the Democratic, it would pose a race between two black candidates. If we look at it in terms of black and white (and its hard not to in this case) Steele claims he will serve everyone while Mfume would serve only the black community.
Now I admit that the prospect of both candidates being black may not seem too exciting at first, but look at the history behind this; there have only been 5 Senators of African descent. 5, total, in the history of the US Senate. As of today, there is only 1 currently serving on the Senate (Barack Obama, Democrat, Illinois). If Steele wins the Republican nomination, and Mfume the Democratic, there is a good chance one of them will become the sixth Senator of African-American descent. If there was ever a time to say you have lived to see history in the making, this would be it.

What separates this race from the other states’ is that we have two candidates of the same race, and they still found a way to make race an issue. I never agreed to the idea that politicians should campaign race-by-race, making promises to help one race more than the other, and vice versa. I believe that voters pick a candidate whose convictions and ideas match theirs, whatever they may be. If a candidate came to my town and told all the white people he would do “wondrous” things for them, I wouldn’t be asking myself how he is going to help me as a white male. I would be asking what he is going to do for the others who aren’t white. In this case, I think that Lierman was correct in calling this “race baiting”. Preach to the crowds as people, not colors.

  You’d rather die than take a stab at living, nothing would kill you so you do it yourself

Wednesday, August 09, 2006

Make It Last

When is the right time to just give up? Is there such a time? I would imagine that in the realm of friendships there would be no such time, but as I have had to prove that rule incorrect in the past, I know that such a time does exist within the space time continuum. Should you just forgive and forget, and if so, how many times must you do that? What if you are fed up with all the years of being tested, as if your friendship was always on trial, would you get sick of it? I have this dilemma, and it is something that is always on my mind. I have a good friend (good?) that means a lot to me, a lot more than she will ever understand, or at least that she will let on to understand, and we have some good memories together. But the whole time, I was being tested. Mind-fucked essentially, as if everyday was a 50/50 shot of maintaining that friendship. How many times can you say it’s a joke or a prank?

More importantly, am I even the one at fault? Let’s face it; she has never been trusting towards people, even those that she claims to trust. It’s like she assumes that everyone is out to hurt her, everyone has a grand scheme, and all she has to do is find a clever way to show their evil side, and if it comes back to bite her in the ass, she just claims it was a joke. It’s not a joke. People don’t like having to prove their loyalty. I don’t like having to defend my conversations with other people to you when it was none of your business. Not everyone is out to get you. Some of us love and care about you, even when you got too cool and too successful for us. We put up with your dumb friends that talk down to us, and your snotty attitude that you never had before. We put up with your constant drinking and your constant judging. Yet, you still treat us like we’re on thin ice.

Seriously, fucking grow up. I don’t put you through hoops, make you walk a tight rope and balance our friendship on it. I love you for you, even with your faults, so why can’t you just fucking accept ours? You said that this is how I lose friends, but you’re wrong. This is how you lose friends, and you can’t seem to realize that. I don’t want to be tested. I don’t want to be compared to your other friends. I don’t want to be the only one trying in this friendship. So I’m not going to call. I’m not going to ask friends about you, or call your friends to see how you are doing. If you give a shit, you will call. If not, well then I guess you met my expectations all along. But I never tested you, never questioned your loyalty, and never doubted your sincerity. Check, fold, or ante up, it’s your call.

I think about that day, when I felt you threw it all away, to try and make me feel like I’m the one. You were my best friend, and I never ever thought those days would end, but now it feels like they are gone.

Tuesday, August 08, 2006

My Free Spam

Status: In Testing

I was driving today, and I heard an offer on the radio. It was an offer for a free laptop. Now, I prefer to think of myself as a pretty intelligent person, so I was well aware that this was either a scam or an invitation to allow a billion companies to solicit my mailbox with the compassion of a pimp in Amsterdam. But, seeing as how I needed something to type today, I figured I would try a little experiment, and see exactly if this offer was real or not. Here is how the experiment went:

Step 1 – sign up at
Step 2 – click through 3 pages of offers, choosing “no” on all of them.
Step 3 – well, I walked into this one…

Basically step three was what I expected. I answered “no” on all of the advertisement options, because it said that I did not need to choose “yes” to any of them. Then, as I get through those three pages, I am presented with a page stating I have to choose 4 offers and complete the trial sign-up, then I would be able to verify my address for the sipping of my, ahem, free laptop. So I chose these 4:

1 – All Cool Music: first I had to enter my name an email address, then I had to choose an option for payment. This is what I expected, so I left the page open without filing it out and went onto my second choice.

2 – this is a site where you pay $5.99 for any CD. Now it is important to remember that the radio commercial stated there is nothing to buy, and all I am doing is filling out surveys. Maybe the survey companies just forgot to mention that whole paying for shit I don’t want or need part. Anyway, like the first one, I left it open and did not complete registration.

3 – BMG Music Service: we all know what this is, same MO as the last 2.

4 – My Daily Dose – something about free health literature. Basically, I just got tired of reading all of them and picked the first one that did not look like a sexual enhancement of some sort.

Next I started browsing through all the other pages, trying to get to the end. I was then place back on the front page, after it stated that I completed the process. So naturally, I try to log in to see that status of my “free laptop”, and guess what? My password doesn’t work, of course. This is not surprising at all. So I had them send me a new password, and once I get it I will follow up on this, and I will let you all now the outcome.

It’s gonna be a world of hurt


The good news that I have been waiting, hoping, even craving to hear has now befallen onto my humble ears. The Lemonheads are releasing a new album. And it gets better. Bill Stevenson is drumming for them on the record, and if you don’t know who he is, he is/was the drummer for the Descendents, Black Flag, All, and produced records such as Rise Against’s Revolutions Per Minute and The Suffer And The Witness, as well as other recent punk albums. He is an amazing musicians and producer, and the fact that he has his hand in this project only cements my belief that this new record will kick ass. Also, playing bass is Karl Alvarez, also from the Descendents and All. Delectable indeed.

It’s a shame about Ray

Sunday, August 06, 2006

This Post Is Copyrighted

So it seems Mel Gibson hates the Jews. If this is news to anybody, that person(s) has undoubtedly been living under a fucking rock. Anyway, Mel’s anti-Semitism is not the main focus of this article, but merely an introduction. I am not sure what Mel Gibson, the Jewish community, and the act of hatred have to do with Papa Roach, but maybe we will figure it out within the next couple paragraphs. I heard the new Papa Roach song today, and I have to say, I prefer them as Papa Roach and not Lostprophets. Or am I the only one who made that connection? I’m not saying I am an elitist asshole or anything, but you people have to take the journey with me here, I can’t do everything for you. This isn’t how a relationship works. Why are you yelling at me? But I love you!

Anyway, since we are discussing groups sounding like one another, lets touch base (or freebase if that’s what you would prefer) on something I have heard a lot about lately and frankly I think people get their damn panties in a bunch over the stupidest shit. The new Red Hot Chili Peppers song “Dani California” apparently sounds vaguely familiar to Tom Petty fans, specifically the Petty song “Last Dance With Mary Jane”. Now I have listened to and studied both of these songs, and I have discovered what I usually discover but nobody believes or cares about so they just keep yelling “foul”, and I am going to explain it to you. See me at paragraph 3.

Welcome to paragraph 3, or “three” for you grammar Nazi’s. Now what most people fail to realize is that even though two songs may sound similar, that does not necessarily mean it is copyright infringement. Nobody bitched about Green Day’s “She’s A Rebel” using the same fucking chord progressions as Jawbreaker’s “Boxcar”, and I think the reason for this is because when both songs are played back to back, it is easy to differentiate, to even the most casual of music fans, that they are in fact two very different songs. This is what has happened with RHCP and Petty. “Dani California” may remind you of “Last Dance With Mary Jane”, but it doesn’t sound enough like it to make someone confuse the two. This leads us to believe that it is not copyright infringement, and that anybody who bitches about it is either a maniacal fan of one of the artist, or is stupid and needs a hobby. Or both.

So what does this have to do with the Jews? Nothing really, but go ask Mel. I’m sure he will tell you that copyright infringement was first started by the Jews as a way to start all the wars of the world, or some bullshit like that. Now go listen to Jawbreaker.

I’m not O-Fucking-K

Thursday, August 03, 2006

One Fierce Beer Coaster

This may seem quite the obscure comment to make, but I am willing to risk my reputation (assuming I have one at that it is positive in some manner) by stating this out loud, for all of you to hear; the Bloodhound Gang may in fact be the most important band around. I know, you have already started to question my intellectual authority on the subject of music, as well as my sanity, but I assure that I would not make a statement such as this without having the intellectual arsenal to back it up. Allow me to explain…no, there is too much, allow me to sum up. The Bloodhound Gang has managed to carve out their own little niche in the world of music, much like Primus and Pink Floyd, and I will now explain why.

Much like the great white shark swimming amongst the other oceanic creatures, there is really no competition. The Bloodhound Gang belong in that small group of rap-metal artist, but they’re not really an active part of it. None of its member have claimed to have fucked Britney Spears (at least not that I am aware of, but I could be wrong), they don’t seem to have a grudge against anyone (except New Jersey, but really, who can blame them), and they don’t take themselves nearly as seriously as the other bands in that genre. They all seem to have a grudge against their parents, or society, or something else that none of us give a shit about, but the Bloodhound Gang seem to go the other way. They even included a track consisting of Jimmy Pop talking to his mother about words that rhyme with “vagina”. I doubt you would get the same phone conversation from Fred Durst and his mother. He would probably just tell her to fuck off, and that he did it all for the cookies. Maybe he likes cookies, and he is really just misunderstood. Ever think of that, Britney?

Anyway, my point is this; where the other rap-metal bands failed[1], Bloodhound Gang has succeeded by being the outcast. They mock New Jersey, make fun of Frankie Goes to Hollywood with a crack smoking Pac Man, and showed us how a lap dance really is better when the stripper is crying. Instead of getting pissed off, they got funny. And I don’t know about you, but I would rather listen to funny rap-metal than listen to Fred Durst talk about how badass he is. They are the only band that puts out records strictly for the purpose of laughing at themselves, and they manage to make some good music while doing it, and this is a lesson many bands could learn from. They have fun whether you are laughing at them or with them. And to be honest, I like it that way. Imagine how much more listenable LB or ICP would be if they make good music and talked about boobies instead of who’s ass they think they can kick. Seriously guys, cheer up. Life can’t be all bad[2].

I hope you die

[1] And the thing they failed at was HAVING A CAREER.
[2] Unless your name is Fred Durst, in which case it is required by law that your life suck and you make millions of dollars bitching about it.

Wednesday, August 02, 2006

Damn I Feel Old

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times.[1] As the days float on by like leaves hovering amongst the waves in the river of life, these days are slowing passing us bye. Nothing seems to drive home the length of one’s current life stream as when a younger sibling reaches a pivotal age, namely 21. My lil’ sister Midge (some people say her name is Kellie, but those people are crazy. It’s Midge.) Turned 21 yesterday and she is now legally able to do all the things she has been doing since she was 15. So to all the young huddled masses, I say this; enjoy it while it lasts. It won’t last forever. Sooner or later, the creeping hand of old age glides across our shoulders and deathly whispers into our ear “it is time my son, for you are now one old son of a bitch. I shall see you beyond the void” or something along those lines that makes one assume he or she is of the ripe old age to start the process of dying. That’s a conversation with yourself that usually doesn’t go so well. Everybody wants eternal life, but none can have it. Happy birthday Midge.

Life handed us a paycheck, we said “we worked harder than this!”

[1] SOMEBODY has to know what that is from…

Wednesday, July 26, 2006

I Am Allergic To Stupidity

So I am taking this quiz thing that is supposedly going to tell me what modern day president I am (why? Because I hate myself) and what is the first answer I get? George W. Fucking Bush. Now anyone who knows me knows my opinion of that war-loving hate monger, and in no way in hell am I going to settle for being compared to him. So I take the test again, and who do I get? Richard fucking Nixon, another god damn Republican. So I says “fuck that” and try a third time, hoping for a Democrat. No, as luck would have it, God hates me. I get Ronald fucking Reagan this time. By this point I gave up, having assumed that the quiz was created by Sean Hannity and that alcoholic chain smoking bitch Ann Coulter. Now I am going to go and take Hannity’s remarkably fair and unbiased (read: bullshit) poll on WMD’s in Iraq, as if to imply that we actually fucking found some!  Why? Once, again, because I hate myself and feel the urge to pollute my mind with stupidity and nonsense.

Livin’ on the edge!


Shit Yeah Bitches!
You're 85% Irish

Congratulations, you're a shining example of an Irish lass (or lad).
There's hardly anyone more Irish than you!

Koopa Troopa

I often imagine myself as a video game character. Sometimes I am Promiscuous, the enchanted and noble sex knight of the horny round table, and sometimes I am B Dawg G, the hip and cool gansta’ who busts caps and throws up gang signs while jackin’ rides from the peeps on the street, youknowwhatI’msayin’G? But no matter who I am or what my purpose is or how many points I need to save the princess from the perverted sex addict Lizard King of Candyland, there is always one constant and unavoidable truth in my delusions of digital grandeur. The truth is that I am only playable on the Sega Genesis, and as we all know, the Sega Genesis is the red headed step child of video game systems. And that hurts me inside, to know that no matter how many princesses I rescue or how many NeW8i3$ I 0wnz0r w1TH MY le3+ KilLIng SK1lL5, I will never be relevant to the upper crust of the gamer community. The princess will always run off to Master Chief and his 360 degrees of love, and that Mario and Luigi will always be cooler than me. I am not even cool enough to kick it with Mario. That hurts me, hurts me deep.

This is the point where we stand up

Tuesday, July 25, 2006

Intellectual Speeding Ticket

I am constantly fascinated with how this world chooses to fight its intellectual battles. This is not to say that all battles are either intellectual or involve any intellect at all, but for the sake of the argument, we’ll just say that most arguments pertaining to the state of the world at this present moment involve some intellect, seeing as how there are two sides to every argument. That being said, print media has generally been a large portion of any debater’s arsenal of arguments. Ranging from governmental elections to wars, weather catastrophes, obituaries, sports news, local commentary, the funnies and the JC Penny Sunday Sale, newspapers and magazines have played a large role in the communication of ideas.

Until now.

Now don’t misunderstand my previous comments as to mean that newspapers, along with other forms of print media, are no longer used in the information world. They are. They are just not as important of a weapon as they were in the past 200 years. This strikes me as odd because print material has always, in some form, been around. From cave drawings to the New York Times, information has been available, and still is, in print form. And it has only taken the last 5 to 6 years to change all of that. Blogs are now what the newspaper used to be, which is the way that most of the world obtains its information on current events.

Now that the format is changing, how will we spread the message to those who are unplugged from the virtual world of the Web? Imagine for a second that it is 1969 (and for example, lets just say it’s a Monday) and you are at a protest. You have your tie-dye shirt on, your hair is long and you haven’t taken a shower in, well, a while. Now lets say a fellow protester offers you a slip of paper containing either positive or negative propaganda about the cause you are currently like totally raging against man, or did I just blow your mind?

Anyway, my question is if you were to fast-forward 40 years into the future, and you are now at a similar protest (and likely for a similar cause as this world, or at least this nation tends to learn things very slowly) how would you get that information? Well, you wouldn’t. That fellow protester would push his paper and ink opinion on you and you would undoubtedly crumple it up and throw it away, or drop it on the ground, or use it to roll a joint. This is because it is on paper, and as we all know, paper is boring. You don’t have time to read a piece of paper, but if the exact same information were to be forwarded to your Blackberry, you would then immediately turn your brain into a sponge of which its only purpose is to obtain said information from your 3-inch* electronic deity.

Let’s face it, we are rarely at home. With how fast the world moves, we spend most of our lives outside the house. As a consequence, we tend to assume that any form of information we may have an interest in will eventually be available on our PC when we get home later that night. What worries me is that we may get the information too late. Unless we are all issued a Blackberry paid for by the government (and this is unlikely) or some other electronic device used to gather information off of the internet, we will just have to wait. We can’t always be at our computers, but we don’t have enough time to read the paper. My question is, now that the way we send information has changed (email, blogs, websites) when will we advance the way that we receive the information?

If we are currently engaging in a heated debate about the environment, taxes, fashion, or that new hottie working in the mailroom, we can not afford to wait until we get home to find out that there was more information available. Blogs allow for by-the-minute updates of any subject matter you could fathom, but it is useless if we can’t get the information as fast as we can send it. If there is some new technology out there that assists in this effort then by all means please tell me, as I am more than willing to learn. But until then, I’m just gonna’ keep hoping the government passes a Blackberry my way (what colors do they come in?).

Once upon a time, I could control myself

*It should be noted that the author of this post has NO IDEA what the size of a Blackberry is.

Fun-Lovin' Criminal

There is a disease in America. It is sucking out the life from the very fabric of our society, and it has no mercy, no compassion, and no forgiveness. If exposed, you too will become what we still in the rational state of mind have come to refer to as “the infected”. Once “infected” there is no turning back. Your family will not forgive you, your friends will ignore, and the very image that stares back at you in the mirror will now only stare blankly with cold, black, dead eyes. This disease can attack anyone, at anytime, anywhere. What is this horrible ameba of foul stench and decay you ask? It has but one name, consisting of two words;

Emo Fashion.

Have you found yourself questioning your gender? Felt the urge to sport a black and blond comb-over at the age of 23? Are your pants a little too tight? Do you have a man-purse? If you answered yes to any of these questions, you may already be among “the infected”. Is there hope for you? Can you be saved? The good news is yes, but the process of cleansing the body and mind of this wretched and cruel plague is so unbearable that I dare not speak its means of application. The bad news is that even if you are purged of this disease, you will forever suffer the ridicule and humiliation of your friends and family. As I warned of earlier, there is no turning back.

You can be saved, temporarily, if you act fast. You must immediately change your ways of fashion. It sounds tough, and I am not going to lie to you, the purging of this demon can be a nasty bitch, but there are some who can help you. Do not look to the emo community for help, for that is only a breeding ground for Emo Fashion. You must first go to a heavy metal show and get your ass kicked. Trust me on this; it is a very important step in the cleansing process. After that, you must pledge an oath to NEVER enter a Hot Topic again. If you can successfully complete these first two steps, the fight against this unholy-ness will be won by nature itself.

And remember, the help line is available 24 hours a day, seven days a week ($3.99 first minute, $2.99 each additional minute, extra charges apply for crying, bitching, or whining to the operator) for your support. Emo Fashion is not something to be taken lightly. It is destroying this nation’s youth, and it must be stopped. And it can be stopped, but we all must do our part. Have you done yours?

For support, call 1-800-FUCK-EMO

Walk the bridges before you burn them down

Sunday, July 23, 2006

Take Me To Your Leader

I often imagine what it would be like to interview a famous, and undoubtedly fucked up celebrity. Like Michael Jackson, for instance. I imagine this is how the interview would go:

Me: So Mr. Jackson, where will you be relocating to now that Neverland Ranch is closed?

MJ: I like gumdrops. Children are the joy of earth, like lollipops and unicorns.

Me: …Ok, so, now that this got weird, what is your reasoning for closing your ranch? Is it because of lack of money, or simply because now that the ranch is 15 years old, you’re just not attracted to it anymore?

MJ: Clouds are pasty and wonderful, like grape flavored bacon in the rain.

Me: …So, any plans for a new album? Maybe a new tour?

MJ: I want to save all the monkeys of the world, for Bubbles. He talks to me, and sometimes I listen, and other times I talk back to him. We talk about wishes and ponies and ice cream.

Me: Do you know that you are insane?

MJ: I like Bubbles.

Me: Fuck this, I quit. Why couldn’t I have been assigned to Portland or Chicago? Fuck this and fuck my editor, I hate this job.

MJ: How old are you? I’m just askin’.

This is when I would walk out the door and go back to my home and discover that I really don’t want to interview someone famous, because deep down their just fucked up and emotionally tormented wacko’s with too much god damn money.

You were my best friend, and I never ever thought those days would end, but now it seems like they are gone.