RAWK ON!!!

Here is a sampling of the gaming goodness that is Rock Band. This crazy sonofabitch has a whole line of his sheer p'wnage of the game on expert. I have beaten the game on hard AND I USED TO PLAY DRUMS! I lasted about a minute and a half at what he clearly has the chops for. Props to this crazy bastard. For the uninitiated... each block corresponds to a drum head. Red, yellow, blue, and green. The solid orange line is the bass drum (there is a pedal.) The long colored lines are drum fills that let you play what you want for bonus power (if you hit the green note at the end- the high hat.) I'll let the video do the rest... Maestro please...

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!!!

Here is a little holiday cheer for you this new year's eve. Be safe you bunch of crazy bastards... Paul Gilbert FTW!!!

McNamee to Clemens: FUCK YOU!

It seems that there are only two things in this world that the Roidcket cares about: his money and an untarnished entrance into Cooperstown. Loyalty is something foreign to the man and it comes as no surprise that the man partially responsible for Clemens' miraculous chemically induced comeback is getting thrown under the same bus as the Astros and Red Sox. Roger is about Roger. Bottom line. That is why he is clawing for his reputation like Floyd Landis and we all remember how that turned out. But, wait...his former needle jockey is about to break his dick off in #22's funky ass. From Astros.com HOUSTON -- Brian McNamee, Roger Clemens' former trainer, has added another attorney to his legal team and could file a defamation suit against the seven-time Cy Young Award winner, according to The New York Times in its Saturday edition. "He is afraid that his character is going to be assassinated on national television and that Roger is going to continue to lie and trash him," Ward said to the Times. "If that airs, Clemens should be prepared to see the matter litigated in the courts. We would file the suit to establish that Brian is not lying." Oh man this is gonna get good. It won't reach the same epic heights of the Isiah Thomas lawsuit but who knows? J

Now if we can just get G 'N' R back together

It does make me sad to live in a world where a song as epic as "I'm Not Like Everybody Else" is used in HP commercials targeted at the Patrick Batemen's of the world but this news almost makes up for it. Anywhere they play in Texas, there I shall be. The Kinks are planning to follow in the footsteps of rockers Led Zeppelin with a highly anticipated reunion next year. Lead singer and guitarist Ray Davies said the band's original members, which included Davies' brother Dave on guitar, Mick Avory on drums and Pete Quaife on bass plan to play together for the first time in nearly four decades in 2008. Davies, 63, said a full reunion is on the cards next year for the first time in almost 40 years. Oh yeah. J

Lords of FUCKING Altamont

When doing the first half of my year in 2008 preview I briefly got retarded, thought that Joe Simpson and Lynn Spears were prime examples of perfect parenting and forgot that the Lords of Altamont are dropping an album next month. If you've never heard this earsplitting, fuzzed out, Farfisa drenched gift to rock 'n' roll then just check out the below video. Your welcome. J Live Fast, Die Young

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SEPTEMBER

I'm going back to Fenway to watch the Yankees lose. 8BitChris will be there with me to wreck the bars. This is gonna rule.

Shoplifters of the World UNITE...to Improve Your Tastes

Apparently the sections that are most often victimized by shoplifters at work are: Manga Rap Religion and Sex
Yeah, it's pretty fucking obvious that the shoplifters of the world (this is based on corporate's study, after all) are idiotic scumbags who have no taste in media. At some point in time I understood stealing some porn but with the glory that is RedTube I fail to see the reason behind knicking a kama sutra book. Anyone with a chick cool enough to bust some of those positions (and I've had a couple. Thanks to my sis, by the way, for purchasing me a copy and to the 90 pound Irish girl who made some of the more physically improbable acts possible) would proudly walk the book up to the registers and never think to ask for a gift reciept. Manga? Well, I have no answer for that. I guess it's just people who dig the genre not wanting to admit they are losers for liking shitty versions of graphic novels. And religion is actually a shocker. The Bible is probably the most pilfered book known to man. If Joel Osteen was really a man of Bog (he is not but props to the asshole for creating the tax shelter by dropping "Jesus" every other millionth word) he would spend the collection plate to distribute his His tome to everyone who was curious. It's the rap section that troubles me. I love hip-hop but most of the people who swipe discs from the rap section are total fucking prats who I am actually glad are robbing from the labels that unleash audio cancer like Soulja Boy Tellum and 50 Cent onto the masses. I have never seen a sketch person spend 10 hours digging through the Jazz or Folk section (which are only slightly larger than the Rap one, which is about as wide as me laying down) with two friends getting their back. And if the thiefs were trying to steal something like It Takes a Nation of Millions to Hold Us Back, First Come First Served or even Check Your Head or the motherfucking CHRONIC I would happily turn the other way. But no, these dipshits want the Game's new album like it's the Gospel of modern music. And these guys aren't some Jean Valjean type motherfuckers desperate for a disc like they're a bum starving for an apple core. They're dickheads decked out in top fashion gear, trying to steal a record physically instead of doing it the smart way via the internet. I understand not everyone has a computer but can't these fucktards at least burn "Curtis" at the library and not make me waste my time watching their sorry selves for an hour until they remove the security sticker and stuff the product down their pants? Fuck it, all shoplifters come and talk to me, tell me what you want and I will not only burn that shit for you FOR FREE but will give you 10 additional discs filled with shit you should be listening to. Let's see how corporate responds to that idea! At least they'll dig on how I jooked the "loss prevention" stats in their favor.

Speak the truth, Brother Attell

Yogaaahhouch!

Alright. So tonight the wife and I went to the gym to do yoga. This was not my first instance in doing this spectacle in public. We gave it a go initially last week as well. I have found out a few things in the ways of yoga. 1. I am actually more limber than I thought and last the entire hour. That can't be said for all endeavors... 2. Yoga pants rule! It is a veritable ass fest in that place. Wife's ass, complete female stranger's ass, wife's ass, stranger's ass, wife, stranger, stranger, wife. Then there is the occasional shot of my own ass. I would not even look at that with your eyes. I feel sorry for the people around me. Well, we are slated to go again on Monday. If you had told my 20 year old college self that I would be doing yoga with my wife on New Year's eve ten years later, I would of beaten you silly with either my bottle or bong (whichever was more readily available, if not both) then said something insulting about a female relative you held dear and relations with the business end of my penis. I wonder how full of shit my 50 year old self is going to find me now... Now if you don't mind I am going to retire to my quarters with a glass of scotch and see if I can't find a good Jimmy Stewart movie. Man...what is happening to me? T8BC

Racially Confused?

A Douche by Any Other Color is Still A Douche. (I am on a roll today. Slow Friday at work. Just chillin', listening to some Nick Drake, blogging my ass off. Anyhow...) So...the other day after I got off of work, I stopped by my local GameStop to see what was crackalackin' (Yes. I said it. It will all make since in a bit. Wait for it...) in the realm of gaming goodness. As far as new releases go- there was a little bit of Jack and a whole lot of shit. I have been on a mad hunt for Lunar Knights, but the game has been out for a bit and I have yet to spot it new or used in that cockroach motel of store that I frequent. I saw it at Best Buy and have not seen it since. I need to just Amazon the damn thing. I digress... Having been a manager of one of the best stores in the entire state coupled with my customer-centric new gig, I tend to be a bit on a snob or elitist when it comes to my shopping experience. If I need your help, I will seek you out. Otherwise LEAVE ME ALONE. I hated the policies that GS made us follow. The constant badgering of the customer base to reserve games and subscribe to the absolute shit ticket of a mag that they made us whore out. I know what these guys have to do. I feel their pain. But they also know me and they leave me alone. That is a good thing. I have been in their shoes. It sucks. But I did what was asked, and I did it well. Until I found an out. Now I find that I actually enjoy games again. So while I was wandering between the 360 and DS titles, I could not help but overhear the assistant store manager (what position I started at...) banter with customers and his fellow staff. ASM: Eh Doug. This Tony Hawk? It out yet man? Doug (who is a PART TIMER mind you...): I dunno man. I hate fucking Tony Hawk. It's gay. ASM: Yeah but this guy wants it. Where is it at bro? I turn around to see a man old enough to be my father with a look on his face like someone has been holding a small turd under his nose. He was obviously oblivious to where he walked into. He knew they sold games. He needs a game, and now he looks disgusted. This is going to be good. Doug: Shhhiiiitt nigga. Lookit up yo damn self. (Note: I am never one to bring up race. I am an equal opportunity hater, but it should be noted here that Doug is as white as the day is long and the ASM is Hispanic. While we are at it, the customer is white as well. Carry on.) Always be making me be looking up yo damn questions 'bout ta game an' shit. (The sheer phonetic ass fucking this sentence took was enough to make Sterling Brown turn white. Hold on to your lunch kit, it gets better.) Customer: Do you talk to your mother like that? (Uh oh...why sir, why?) ASM: Boo-ya! (I don't know if that is how you spell it. But, at this point I don't think it matters.) SNAP! Dude- straight up! Doug: Shut up Miguel. The ASM, Miguel, now goes to the back room to do somthing. A smart move on his part. Lucky bastard. Now it just D-O-U double G, the customer and myself. Surprisingly, no one has noticed me yet. I gleefully bask in my mediocre ambguity. Ok here is the coup de grâce. Seeing as the customer just took the Ace of Spades out of his man deck (huzza!) let's see what this little wannabe wigga does next... Doug: No sir. DING DING DING! Winner winner, chicken dinner! The cracker folded! Customer A: 1, Doug: 0! Customer: Ok then. Well (looks at name badge,) DOUG. Do you have this game or not? Doug: Let me look it up for you sir... Miguel reemerges from the back room. Well that proved to be a classic retail moment. As it turned out, the game was in stock for the system in question (which I knew when he initially asked. But, then the racially ambiguous sideshow would of never transpired. Thusly, I would not have this glorious yarn to spin for your reading enjoyment. (See, everything happens for a reason.) So the customer made the transaction with his credit card, made a disgusted noise with his mouth (pfffftt... something like that I ascertain,) and left. No sooner... Doug: Man that triflin' ass motherfucker. Betta be lucky I don't be cuttin' his ass. Ssssshhhhiiiittt. (Dusts off his shoulders. I don't know why. They looked ok to me. I did not see any asbestos from the ceiling tiles or anything. Oh well. He goes back to gutting game boxes.) Miguel (whom I know from previous visits,) nods in my direction: Hey man. Didn't see you back there bro. How you been? I just smile. Doug looks at him, then me. Doug: What? (looks back at me,) He ain't shit yo. Miguel: Naw man. Chris is cool dude, but you know he used to be a manager dude. (I swear. He is the only beaner I have ever heard use the word "dude" more than me...) He knows Brian (The District Manager. He used to me mine as well. Cool guy.) dude. Doug: So? It's not like he can do anything. Me: Hey jackass. Are you going to keep standing there and talk shit or are you going to shut up and ring me up? Some of us have real jobs that we are done with for the day and want to get home. Miguel looks at me and I nod for him to go to the back again. He starts back. Doug: Hey! Where are you going? Come ring him up! Miguel (nods, laughs, salutes me, and heads to the back): Naw dude, you got it bro. You got it. Walk it out, walk it out. Peace Chris. Me: See ya Miguel. Now... where were we? Doug: I ain't gotta go checkin' you out dawg. (This statement took me by surprise. Not because he was refusing my service. But, because this was his first use of the word "dawg'" and it was surprisingly not followed up with the now classic "Know what I'm sayin'?" Impressive none the less.) Me: That's cool. I step away from the counter, and he goes back to gutting games like some little retail robot. I pull out my cell and dial a number. Me: Hey Brian. What's up? Oh, good, good. Uh huh. Steve is good man. Steve is good. (An old boss of mine.) Hey, not to bother you but I seem to have a problem. (By now, D-fizzle is looking at me again.) I am here at your Gessner location. Yeah, the one in the old Fiesta strip. Uh huh. Yeah. It seems that your boy Doug is too busy cussing out customers and gutting games to check me out. Doug: Come on man, whatcha need? (Picks up my box, starts ringing me up...) Me: Oh. It looks like he has changed his mind. It's cool... take care Brian. You too. I close my phone and pocket it. He rings me up. Just as the reciept prints... Me: You know what? Nevermind. I don't want this. (Actually I did. It was Eternal Sonata, but I was doing this on principal alone.) Give me my money back. The look on his face was priceless. He looked like I just set his baby pitbull on fire and put it out by pissing on it. I had him. Am I evil? Wait, I don't care. Me: And while you are at it, I need to cancel all of my reservations that you have in the system under me. (I had like 7. This will screw his totals for the week and mess the store up too- but I really did not care at this point.) Doug: Aw dawg, come on man. You trippin'. Straight trippin'. Me: I can call Brian back. I'm sure that last guy will be calling your customer service too. He hates that stuff. Doug: Naw dawg (Wow! three times in the last 2 minutes! I'm stoked "dawg!") We coo we coo. He does the cancellation of the 7 reservations and gives me my 35 bones back. Doug: That's bullshit yo. You gotta be flexin'. (why flexin'? What happened to flossin'?) Callin' my boss and shit so you can be all tough and shit. You's a triflin' bitch too yo. He slams the receipt and cash on the counter, and goes back to gutting games... Me: I get that you might be from the 'hood and all. What hood there is 'round here. That I get. HOW you got this job? That escapes me. I would of sent you kickin' pavement the minute you sat your wannabe hard ass down across from me in the interview. Who you reppin'? Bunker Hill Village? Kempwood? Long Point? Maybe Spring Valley? Why don't you try walking round U of H after dark? Take a stroll down Navigation. Come over to South Houston or Pasadena, where I grew up, and talk that shit? Mexicans hate that shit as much as anyone else. You little punks are a dime a dozen. Frontin' in the 'burbs. Please. Your bitch ass likes everything there is about being black other than the color. You are not embracing the culture you moron. They hate you as much as we do. You are a slap in the face to the whole racial progression we have tried to make, retard. I don't know what's funnier: your act or mine? Doug: Fuck you dawg. Act. This ain't no act nigga. You? Whatcha got? I pull out my phone hit redial and speakerphone. PHONE (My wife's voice): Hello? Where are you? Hello? Christopher? (I love it when she calls me that.) Me: Call you back sweetie. Pocket the phone. Me: Take it easy "dawg." Exit. UPDATE: Doug in all his glory sadly does not work for his beloved GameStop any longer. Apparently, according to Miguel, the customer who initially felt the wrath of his wiggerdom actually did call Brian and file a complaint. PS: I apologize for the wall of text post. HAPPY SHOPPING! T8BC

Way to "Gig 'Em," Asshole...

Texas A&M red-faced over 'casket' comment at pep rally Associated Press "SAN ANTONIO, Texas -- Texas A&M officials have apologized to Penn State leaders over an Aggie yell leader's references to needing a "casket" for coach Joe Paterno. Paterno last week turned 81. Penn State faces A&M on Saturday night in the Valero Alamo Bowl. One A&M yell leader, during a pep rally Thursday night, told the crowd that Paterno was "on his death bed" and "someone needs to find him a casket." The remarks drew boos from the crowd. Some A&M and Penn State fans said the remarks were offensive and inappropriate. A&M spokesman Alan Cannon says interim president Eddie Davis and athletic director Bill Byrne later apologized to their Penn State counterparts. Paterno, a 42-year head-coaching veteran, is about to enter the last year of a four-year contract that expires following the 2008 season." I hope that Joe Pa and the Lions kick the living shit out of those hayseed jackasses. I have always hated A&M for my own personal reasons, but when I see stupid shit like this happen to the school it just makes me giggle a little bit on the inside each time. Their program has not been crap for years and the minute they get invited to a nothing bowl- they (I say "they." It was just one redneck- not the whole school...) go and make locker room inspirationals for the opposing team. Nice. Sure Joe Pa is old enough to be the grandparent of the players and some of the coaching staff. But he also has more pedigree in his shriveled and heavily calloused left pinky toe than Dennis Franchione or Mike Sherman combined. "Joe Paterno's on his death bed! And someone needs to find him a casket!" the Yell Leader screamed. Man. I wish I'd been a fly on the wall. Sure boos ensued, but you know that there had to be an obligatory amount of awkward silence followed by the token "Fuck you, man!" and an "asshole" chant. The verbal train wreck had to make for some greatly uncomfortable moments for the people in the crowd. Comedy gold. Note to Yell Leader: You know that you are nothing but a cheerleader right? The thing is see, your school is so conservatively homophobic, they had to give you fellas a "manly' name so that you could be "secure in your manhood" and still be a cheerleader. The same way the Corp is a bunch of wannabe Marines and Army rejects. Can't have them be called ROTC. That's too high schoolish. My advice chump? Chalk it up to booze. Just say you were a little tipsy off of your last Keystone Light kegstand and you regret saying it. Seems to work rather well in your cases up there. They chalked the bonfire accident up to a bunch of drunken asses. How else can you explain a bunch of engineers not being able to stack logs? Retards.

A Couple of Rebels of the Sacred Heart...

Yes. March 11th. Warehouse Live. Jay and I will be partaking in the Irish tradition of drunken tomfoolery and brazen shit starting with these guys as a musical backdrop. I work at MD Anderson Cancer Center... I am going to see if I can get hooked up with an IV kit. That will make the Guinness and Jameson consumption a tad more streamlined. Mainlining booze FTW! Get me some adult diapers and an eye patch and I think I'll be good to go. Hope to blurringly see you there... Official site for info...

Looking Ahead

2008 has a nice list of albums planned to drop that I'm looking forward to. Let's just skip the intro bullshit and get straight to the heart of this thing.

1/1

Radiohead - In Rainbows

Why am I including this here? It was free to download and further proof that Radiohead is just an awesome band. Oh and if you're living under a rock and haven't heard this yet, what the fuck is wrong with you? I'm just hoping there's a vinyl release for this album.

1/22

Fleshtones - Take a Good Look

Great garage rock that you should always expect from the folks at Yep Roc. That label rules.

2/5

Bob Mould - District Line

Do I even need to explain why I'm stoked for this?

2/19

The Raveonettes - Lust Lust Lust

I've already got this and it kills. They're really coming into their own and for the basest of Raveonettes fans out there, yes there is still the random, lazy garage rock single that slays.

2/26

Del The Funky Homosapien - Eleventh Hour

One of the few rappers whose albums I still anticipate. It might be terrible compared to the rest of his work but it is sure as shit to be better than 50 Cent's new disc (wasn't that bitch supposed to retire?) that is going to be unleashed on the Earth later in the year.

Goldfrapp - Seventh Tree

"Oh, and I FUCKING hate Goldfrapp." Sorry, that's my favorite line from Hard Candy. Ellen Page rules.

Mike Doughty - Golden Delicious

I'm a Soul Coughing fan and his solo work has been pretty solid but it seems like if Doughty was really a "beat" artist as he claims he could shit out 20 of his underproduced, simple records a month. Just sayin'.

Rocket From The Crypt - R.I.P. CD/DVD

No one ever videotapes a funeral. But we will all watch it and rejoice in the final burn out of one of the greatest punk rock bands of all time.

3/4

The Black Crowes - Warpaint

The brothers still can't get along and the more hippie looking dude who broke up with Goldie Hawn's kid is probably all agro over that shit, so this might actually rock. Oh that's right they're last name is Robinson. That's how much I care about this band now. Still, there is hope.

3/11

This is the day that the terrorists will strike again. They will look at the following list of shit that now typifies American tastes and figure it's the best day to suicide bomb a Virgin Megastore. Hey, I can't blame 'em. Let's see what we'll be suffering through for the rest of the year:

Bryan Adams - 11

Panic! At The Disco - You Don't Have To Worry...

Ashlee Simpson - Bittersweet World

The B-52's - Funplex

3/18

Be Your Own Pet - Get Awkward

Yeah, these cats were WAY WAY WAY overhyped to fucking death but like I said in my review of their debut, what do you expect to happen when you are the first band released on Thurston Moore's label. And the disc was pretty good so let's see if they hit the sophomore slump. Or break out from the shadow of Sonic Youth.

Dirtbombs - TBA

The best band from Detroit. Fuck, everything Mick has done has been great. The Dirtbombs are the closest thing to traditional pop sensibilities we'll ever see that man work with. And that is a good thing. Oh lord, yes, a new Dirtbombs album! This is my second most anticipated release for the year following up...

Speedo - TBA

JOHN REIs HAS A NEW BAND. HE OWES US ALL FOR BREAKING UP RFTC AND HOT SNAKES IN THE SAME YEAR AND THE SULTANS IN 2007. JOHN, THIS SHIT BETTER ROCK LIKE HOT CHARITY OR ELSE I'M COMING FOR THAT ASS!

Free Kitten - TBA

Kim Gordon's side project whose first record was one of the last awesome releases from KillRockStars. She might be 100 but she still has the same bratty art punk disposition from the Goo era that just gets me hard.

4/1

Supergrass - Diamond Hoo Ha Men

This band is the only reason Brit-pop is still a semi-respected genre. Just youtube the video for "Grace" and tell me these guy's aren't some of the most woefully underappreciated talents in music.

Sword - Gods Of The Earth

Yeah, they kind of are.

4/8

Billy Bragg - Mr. Love & Justice (Anti-)

The Breeders - Mountain Battles (4AD)

Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds - Dig, Lazarus, Dig!!!

Now this will be the day the terrorists appologize for bombing us on 3/11. Kim Deal always has a place reserved in my ears and Billy Bragg might just be churning the same butter he has for fuck knows how long but it still tastes good. Oh, and do I really need to dig up my unappologetic bro-crush on Nick Cave?

That's all for now. We'll finish up the rest of the year along with expected releases later.

J

P.S., Your Elected Officials Think You're A Moron!

Let's start with the potatoes (hey, I'm Irish) before we get to the meat. I have never read P.S., I Love you nor ever plan on doing so. And the fact that a romantic "comedy" starring Hillary Swank as a supposed physically attractive female is so fucking aggravating that every time I see a copy of the book at work I want to them all up James Frey's ass. Really, (s)he's still just a sock stuffing 10 year old boy. That same hatred can be linked to the current political climate. Look, we're a country that is never content with its leadership and that is a good thing. But, for once the majority of folks who don't dispute the existence of dinosaurs are eagerly waiting for Colonel Clusterfuck to head back to Texas (not me, I want that fucker AND Clemens out of my country. No that wasn't a typo. I'm a Texan first and American second. SECEDE!) and set puppies ablaze before turning the country into one big oil fire just because he can. The campaigning for the upcoming election has been so base and intellectually insulting that I just want whoever the fuck the Democrats run to just start fucking things up in a different direction so I won't have to hear these pussies talk shit to each other over everything. But what is more troubling is the marketing (I'm done with "campaigning" when it comes to politics) that seems to try to get the most marginal of fucking dolts to vote based solely on perceived hipdom and being "en fuego" with pop culture. Check out Hillary's contribution or Huckabee's and tell me these people aren't spitting on our minds. The youtube debates were a fucking sham. A couple of cats asked some good questions but the candidates from both parties seemed to spend more time blowing said video bloggers for actually inquiring about policy plans with depth (hey, I can understand why they were so appreciative) than they did offering REAL answers. And it's because they have none. W has fucked this country 8 ways from Sunday harder than any of us will be able to fathom in our lifetimes. And instead of using common sense and actually taking a hard line stance when there NEEDS to be one, well...they just use empty rhetoric littered with words like "immigration," "9/11" and "integrity" to dupe the person who only gets their news via sound bytes into believing that these over valued , over-ambitious, government jargon spouting dickpigs are actually on their side. They're not. They don't care about you or fixing the problems that are quickly sucking this fading Republic down the shitter.

Gaming Euphoria...

It is right to assume that sports banter is not all that I would bring to this myriad of online disfunctionality and cynicism with a name like The 8Bit Chris. I am a HUGE gamer. Having been around them for 25+ years of my life and having just exited stage left from the hellish retail bane known as GameStop/EB Games as a manager(I feel your pain Jay...you know,) just last February- I'd say I know my stuff. Jay can attest to my geekdom. But it is a badge I wear proudly. I just returned from an elongated Festivius break. Went on break the 14th, back today. Not bad. In that course of time I managed to play A LOT of games. New and old. Console and handheld. Plenty for the taking. All for the liking. The wife went and got me Heroes season one and Planet Earth for my birthday and holiday gifting enjoyment, while Jay hooked me up with season one of Dexter. So those will most definitely be cramping my game time. (SIDEBAR: Get that strike settled. We are missing quality programs people! I don't want a rebirth of reality television...that is another blog altogether.) So back to the games... In the last minute shopping that I had left (my apologies to other posters here...) I found myself thwarting off kids at a Best Buy Wii kiosk while playing Super Mario Galaxy. Having grown up with the guy (Donkey Kong, Super Mario Bros.) and see him evolve (Super Mario 64) and expand (Super Mario Sunshine, Paper Mario, all the other countless Mario token titles made to help sell consoles...) I can honestly say that SMG appeal combined with the intuitive controls has made me want to duke it out with a soccer mom or two to get my hands on a Wii. I'm still holding off though. Them being hard to find is not the only problem. Nintendo's Seal of Quality (remember that little gold sticker?) has taken a blind eye to what it once stood for by green lighting shovelware and utter shit for the sake of the mighty Yen, and the sanity and pocketbook of hardcore gamers. Their first party titles have never been in question, but their third party support was what sank the N64 and brought about the early demise of the Gamecube. And the Wii looks to be following suit. It looks like Nintendo Player 5.o. So unless I feel like playing a game every four months that is actually worth a shit (READ: Zelda, Metroid, SMG, Super Smash Brothers and the like...) I'll hold off. It is still early in the little white box's lifecycle to see if the controls are just a gimmick. But for 250 bones, eh? Who knows... gimmick or not it looks like fun. People wrote off the DS too when it first came out because the dual screen was viewed as a fad as well. It just outsold PS3 and Xbox 360 COMBINED for the holiday season. That does not even include the 12 to 1 sales ratio it has had over the PSP for the past year. Fad my ass. I have yet to justify the purchase of a PS3. Perhaps for the Blu-ray. But I have an HD player for my 360- and they look identical. Moving on... I put in quite a few hours with Call of Duty 4. For those of you uninitiated by the greatness that is Infinity Ward, yes- they did 1 and 2. Treyarch was responsible for the steaming turd that was COD3. It was shit. Utter and complete shit. Anyone who tells you otherwise has no soul. Or is partially blind with no real sense of enjoyment. And it looks like Activision/Vivindi -Blizzard is whoring out Treyarch again to do 5- so you have been warned. CoD4 has been taken out of the all too familiar (although fun in their scope,) realm of WWII and brought into the modern day. The single player experience is the usual scripted roller coaster ride with its bevy of tense encounters and absolute "holy shit," moments. There is a plot twist mid game that makes the shallow and convoluted storyline of Halo 3 seem even more trite and forgettable this year. But where this game absolutely shines and sores (and if you ask any real PC CoD fan- the reason you by the game,) is in the online component. You gain experience from winning (and even loosing,) matches. As you level up you get more perks and better weapons. This has added an almost MMO appeal to the game. You max out at level 55, but you can enter Prestige mode and drop back down to level one (loosing all that you have accumulated in the process,) But now you will have a special insignia by your name and your weapons will be colored differently in the game. You have the option to do this three times. So in theory being a level 55 for the third time is like a level 165. That and you need to get out of the house. See some titties. They are nice. I am currently at the initial level 33. How far I get is dictated by the length of the honey do list and the amount of tv the Mrs. and I watch. My wife is a saint. Tolerates my gaming habit and watches ESPN with me. HOMERUN! This year they have added Create a Character and class perks to customize your character to tailor the way you play. Want an undetectable long range sniper with surface penetrating shots and spot protective C4? Check. Want a run and gun heavy gunner who, when killed, can draw his pistol one last time to try and take out the punk who dropped you? Check. My personal favorite? I call it the Jihad Perkset. I have an Uzi with a silencer that has double the ammo output (fires twice as many bullets per shot,) and a perk called Martyrdom. When I die I drop a live grenade. Anyone within 10 feet of me? BOOM! And I get the kill posthumously. So I tend to just find groups of baddies and run into them shooting and stabbing away (your melee is a knife...) until someone kills me then BOOM! Wow! I never realized how creepy that really sounded until right now. Moving on... it really is a good game. Do yourself a favor and play it. Ok... Rock Band: 179.99 Setlist: Check. Rockaway Beach, Ballroom Blitz, Suffragette City, Queen Bitch, Moonage Daydream, Detroit Rock City, Foreplay/Long Time, Wave of Mutilation, Welcome Home, Gimmie Shelter, ENCORE: Tom Sawyer, Run to the Hills, Blackened "LADIES AND GENTLEMEN! PLEASE WELCOME TO THE STAGE... RoCKAPODAMuS!" Jamming half drunkenly in what reminds you of the band days of your college yesteryear? PRICELESS. Watching your ubergeek friends with no musical talent or coordination attempt to jam half drunkenly? ABSOLUTELY PRICELESS. Rock Band may cost a pretty penny- but it is my Game of the Year. It is the best same room multiplayer gaming experience that I have had since the Goldeneye N64 days. Hands down. I would be down for a Fitz competition. Bring it... Jay- work your magic. I do need to devote some more time to Mass Effect and skate. But I also have a room that is on the verge of out of control and a wife with a new gym membership... We'll see how it goes. For now- episode three of Heroes and holiday leftovers. You kids behave. Peace. T8BC

Clemens Strikes Back

Well, at least he is making a statement himself and not hiding behind some high dollar lawyer (worked for OJ, didn't it?). Still, Clemens took it in the butt and is a douchebag. Fuck him. http://www.ebaumsworld.com/video/watch/65143/ (sorry the video isn't embedded. blogger is being a cunt about copy/paste for videos. if anyone knows how to fix this let me know.)

Merry Fucking Christmas from PKY

We'll see you all (Saint Semen and 8Bit Chris included) at Fitzgerald's tomorrow night for some holiday fun. Rest your livers now, children.

A FUCK YOU to Dickhead Xmas Shoppers

Tomorrow I will work my 8th day in a row, probably having to clock in early, go to lunch late and then clock out about half an hour after I'm supposed to get off my shift. A cigarette break will be a luxury and once again I will have to restrain myself from straight up telling a customer to go and fuck themselves (I flipped off one douchebag today) or restrain from punching some tard in the face. Ah the joys of retail during the most wonderful time of the year! Here are just a few of the things that the MORONS who procrastinate with their holiday shopping have been doing to make my life even more miserable. 1. "I'm looking for a book..." - Well no shit, asshole. You are INSIDE a goddamned bookstore. Sure, we got music and movies too and a few games but I suspect the primary reason you waltz into a bookstore is because you are looking for some reading material. That part of the statement I have learned to stomach. But there's more...oh jeebus there's always more. "...and I don't know the title and I don't know the author. All I know is it's a book about [insert vague subject description here]." I'm sorry you have no idea what in the hell you are looking for but please don't look at me like I'M the asshole when your question is as specific as "Do you have that one, that was with that guy, who was in the movie, that one time?" I really don't mind helping people find what they're looking for (and upselling the motherfuckers after. Hey, more shine for me) but if the only word of a title you can purge from that mammoth cranium is "the" or "like" then just go fuck yourselves and leave me alone. I could be dropping the entire Velvet Underground catalog on someone who is shopping for a Strokes record. 2. "I don't believe it. I have been allover town and I can't find it. Do you know if you'll get some more in before Christmas? Can you check in the back? You're SOLD OUT? I wanna speak to your manager!" - Yeah, this shit happens. Forgive me for not being Professor X and possessing the ability to tap into anyones mind at any given moment. I appologize for not having 10-15 of the most desperately desired Christmas gifts. My bad. And if you're going shopping tomorrow and are reading this: No, we will not get more of Gift X before Xmas. Everything we were gonna get we got on Wednesday. And it is ALL on the shelves. I know the stores look like they just got whacked by a hurricane but that's because people are scrambling for last minute gifts, just like you. Of course, they had to the good sense to show up in the morning and not after 7 p.m. Don't blame me because you're lazy. 3. "I'm looking for a gift for..." - I don't know the person, I can't tell you what to get them. You don't know what shit the dig on? Well, then if they're not that close of a friend that you don't know even the slightest personality details that would assist me in assisting you with your purchase maybe they aren't that giftworthy after all. 4. Fuck your kids. There, I said it. Kids are just like any other group of people: a few winners, a whole lot of losers. That said, could you proud parents please stop little Johnny and Susie from straight up destroying shit and then getting aggravated at having to pay for it? What, you never heard of your break it you bought? As your kids are an extension of your weak genetics, that rule applies to you in regards to your precious little darlings, Mom and Dad! Oh and please keep track of the little bastards. I'm not a babysitter, and if you're too busy checking out UsWeekly to see which Spears offspring is sucking semen up her cunt this week to keep an eye on a wandering, curious and mischevious toddler, well, I get pleasure out of seeing you freak out. If I could tell for a moment that it just wasn't over the temporary misplacement of your offspring but at the sad realization that you suck as a parent (and human being) then that would make my soul smile. In conclusion, if you're shopping tomorrow, I hate you. J

Houston. We have a problem. Well...kinda.

If you are like me and any other baseball purist altruistic fan alive, you are waiting for The Rocket to stop orbiting and come back down to earth to actually hold a press conference and quit speaking through his lawyer. I understand that you state that you never did ANY performance enhancing drugs in your entire career. HGH? Nope. Steroids? Nope. Anabolic enhancers? Nope. That is where I have a problem. That last ones is perfectly legal. Nothing wrong with them. You can get them at GNC. I got some from the gym the other day. You are 46 years old- you have to be doing SOMETHING. People your age should not be throwing that fast anymore. Nolan Ryan couldn't then and I still favor him over you any day. He was just not loved on the national stage because he came off as an ignorant Texas hick who threw at players, and in turn was not embraced by the media. Ask anyone who knows anything about pitching and the Astros in the city of Houston. He did more for this city than you ever did in your now suspect stint. He got shafted here in Houston because the management at the time saw their future in Mike Scott and the team made it look like Ryan was the bad guy, so it never set right with most of us. You went back to where you could get a ring and go out on top. How did that work out for ya? Shilling and Paps say "hi." Anyhow- I digress. Yeah, yeah... I heard you the first time Roger (or should I say Rusty,) in 25 years in the media and spotlight- you don't see how we, the public, are not giving you the benefit of the doubt. Well welcome to the world of Barry Bonds. It was all speculation, hearsay, and a noticeable cranial increase until now with him. Now the two of you are captain and first mate on the Good Ship Lollypopaneedleinmyass. Granted he is a self centered, bigoted ass that had no problem thinking that the baseball world revolved around him (and the coverage did not help,) and his pursuit of breaking the most coveted record in the game. A record which the media -I'm looking at you ESPN- and the casual fan base that picked up after the strike with the Sosa/ McGuire home run race was MADE into the most coveted record. I still think Rose's all time hits record is something that will stand the test of time. And we just witnessed what will likely be the last 300 game winner in baseball in Glavine. Guys are bigger now. They hit the ball further, juice or not. It was inevitable. Mr. Metero A-Rod will more than likely be the next to do it. Then someone who just entered the league *cough*Ryan Howard*cough* or someone coming in will break it after that. But don't get me started on records... Well Bonds did it. And the baseball world moved on... Congr*ul*tions B*rry! The Bean Town Boys won another series, Paps' dog ate the ball (what is it with Sox players and the damn balls from the last game? It is not like they have a lot of those laying around. You'd think they'd be a little "special." I couldn't even get my dog to eat my homework, much less a baseball. Then all you hear is this geriatric, gender switched, Brady Bunch chant coming from the media. MITCHELL, MITCHELL, MITCHELL. And BAM, POW, Batman style- there it is. A list of players who allegedly did steroids and other performance enhancing drugs. And there you are at the top of the list. Along with your boy Andy. It did not take Andy long to own up. He did HGH for two days to help recover from an injury. Seems as though he felt pretty bad about it. He's signed with the pinstripes for next year. You on the other hand? Not so much. Perhaps you are orbiting Rocket because you have to get all your ducks in a row before you can land and defuse the situation publicly yourself. Don't want to say anything that could ruin your chances to come back to the game with a contract that breaks down to a quarter of a million a pitch right? Well it is getting a little old. I understand that you have until May of next year to decide if you are going to come back to start all of eight games for whichever "lucky" squad may land you- but you don't have that long with us. Will we get in a frenzy and go all Joe Horn and protest in your front yard? Probably not. We will just stop caring. My breath is far from baited. I have plenty to keep up with. Two words: Ron Mexico. That has been fun. I've got a Pats perfect season to follow. Watching my Cowboys (T.O. vs. Jessica in a thong only Jello fight. Anyone? Ok- maybe I am alone on that one.) I have more bowl games to keep up with than I can shake a stick at (although I want a playoff system. The smaller schools can do it? What? Are they not as academic as a Miami? Come on now.) March Madness. There is plenty to keep the sports world abuzz. I am just getting tired of the lead being your smug ass speaking through Rusty Hardin (not to knock the man. My wife says he is a great guy...) just to tell us that you have nothing to say. I am a fan of the sport. Before there was 'roids, there was speed. Before there was speed, it was booze. There has always been something in the game that has tarnished the legends and lifestyles of those that had played it. Ruth was a womanizing drunk. Ty Cobb was a bigoted drug addict. Daryl Strawberry should of switched to Pepsi. Pete Rose bet on the game. But in the end, it is just a game. Weather you cheated or not, that is for you to own up to. But the longer you wait the worse it looks. I saw a list of the top 100 greatest Americans in history the other day. If a slave owning Thomas Jefferson can be the fourth greatest American that ever lived, I think we can forgive you for sticking a needle in your ass to help you throw a ball a little faster in a game that you get paid ridiculously to entertain us at. Weather you did or not. Just sayin'.

Deadspin.com is one of my daily reads. It's a great sports blog and has introduced us to such wonders as uber-Colts fan, Lil Ronnie (now going by Ron D. since he's got some hair on his nuts). Flip Yo Fitted

Add to My Profile | More Videos What follows is an analysis of his new video. Let's begin. 1. "On the track" - look, I know you dig on 50 Cent and all but Ronnie, I don't believe you're out there pimpin' ho's in fuck me pumps and spandex dresses, with them Hanna Montanah wanna be's in your vid. 2. I will NEVER "flip my fitted" - Turning your hat at an angle is not cool. In fact, it makes you look like an asshole trying to be cool by bravely going against the grain of traditional sportswear style. Fuck you. I take no fashion tips from a kid who stands lower than my nuts and drops most of his allowance at Lids. 3. "Mr. Paperchase" - Either you work at a Border's where there IS a section called PaperChase for sationary and shit or else you think you're pullin down real dollars off a MySpace video. You're pulling 20 dollars a week, if you're lucky, to blow at the afforementioned Lids store in your local mall (which I'm sure you beg Mom to drive you to everytime some new JumpMan23 gear is unleased). 4. Oh, shit! I just realized your dad is probably Denny Blaze! 5. You really are talking about "Making it Rain?" Dude, Lil Wayne and Pacman Jones need to school your ass. All you're gonna make it rain at is your Sunday school class with Jeebus bucks. BITCH. 6. Yes, you are the boy I am trying, nah, succeeding to HATE on! 7. Who is asking you for "hi fives?" Your buds in the Webelos? 8. "My pockets hold the bankroll" - Lil Ronnie, I'm sorry to tell you that unless you have on XXXXXXL shorts your pockets ain't holding shit but your 2 inch dick. That "bankroll" you brag about? Your parents already spent that shit on a 30" Plasma. That is assuming you stacks paper as high as you claim to. And I seriously doubt that. 9. "I'm respected highly" - BY WHO? The Colts didn't promote your dick suck track as their theme music? Oh wait, I get it, your fellow wanna be down with the gangsta culture but grew up in suburbia (Ice Cube, sound familiar?) thinks you rep your suburb well? Shit, it's probably true. 10. "I'm just like Nic Cage, I'm your National Treasure" - Obviously you have never suffered through that movie or have the common sense to know most people are freaked out by Mr. Cage. Lil Ronnie, you further slippin'. 11. Awesome, here comes your "tribute" to DJ Screw and Houston. Save it young'n. Way to glorify someone who ACCIDENTIALLY changed the face of hip hop by drinking Codeine. 12. I don't care if the chorus is "Chopped and Screwed", I will NOT flip my fitted. 13. Dude, for all the shine you wanna put on yourself with your vid...no ho's are asking about you. 14. "You might go blind/ from this bling in my ear" - Uh, Lil Ronnie, I saw no shine or bling in that shot. What, did Granny by you some fake ass shit on QVC one night and told you they were real? Or maybe your bank roll is so thin that you got your shit from Claire's in the mall and tell everybody your ballin'? 15. Your video looks like some stage mom's version of the shit they show on BET in the morning. Even the dancing is bullshit! Wait, there was none! Just a couple of Disney Channel rejects doing a sub-Irish pop and lock! In conclusion, Lil Ronnie, you are more Vanilla Ice than you are the Beastie Boys. Give it up, bitch! J

Lou Reed is Back on the Junk

I was checking out some trailers for this flick called "The Signal" that I'm pretty jazzed about and decided to YouTube some Lou Reed videos for the song "Perfect Day" (there is this really horrible cover in one preview that made me have to purge that unpleasantness from my psyche) and then I stumble upon this; Luciano Pavarotti with Lou. I checked out the tune hoping it would be something EPIC but, well, you're about to find out it's the exact sum of all your fears. Lou Reed is rocking, then the chorus comes on and that fat fuck tenor totally blows the whole vibe with a kickin' orchestra in the background by trying to turn A MOTHERFUCKING LOU REED TUNE into opera. I was trying to mentally conceive what I was about to hear and kept getting some bad juju. And then when Pav comes on...well, just look at Reed's nasty smirk and giggling and you'll get one millionth of the humor I saw in this vid. Jesus fucking Christ, Lou, stop waiting for your man. Even you realised this was a fucking Brittany Spears level of retardedness move! Why didn't you just pull the plug and save your dignity? J

Black Nathan's Revenge

Being as how he is a lazy bastard, Nate asked me to just go ahead and post his response to all of my "Eat My Shit, Black Nathan" posts. It's kinda like looking into the future if he had some bastard offspring that grew up in New York but instead of being a lanky ginger like his dad, developed the body and hairline of Dennis Frams. J

The Best Doo Wop Song Ever

Fuck Frankie V. and the Four Seasons. Don't even bring "Earth Angel" up when you try to tell me I'm wrong. In fact, I'm not. So you can stop your internal dialouge right now. I'd put this up against some of the primo Spector or Beach Boys cuts any day of the week. Just a perfect song with incredible vocals. Pro-tools is the reason we will never hear anything showcasing such raw, unabashed excellence until the robots rise up Terminator style (or as Martin Heidegger predicted, for you philosophy majors) and crush us all. J

Eat My Shit Black Nathan, Part Three

You think this has all been one-sided? Think again! Black Nathan (if he dies what I suggest) will have an epic "FUCK YOU" response. Yes, even better than him calling the Sox "Episode 7" of the Evil Empire. Do it you lazy, prick! Until then...the latest in my Red Sox-gasm posts. J

Godspeed, Ike

Aside from the Clemens "He Took it in the Butt" frontpage from a NY paper, this has to be my favorite headline of the week.

Set Boner's to ROCK

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New Shit Coming Soon

Look, 'tis the season and I work retail and am on six day weeks (so I can stack paper to the ceiling and ride on 24's) so content might be a little light. Of course, if Black Nathan or GFN or Bill Fool would post that might help. Fuck, I'm gonna outsource this to more people to beef it up. Anyhoo, you can look forward to a couple of things whenever I get the time to sit down and punch em out. I've got the sketches (yay lunch breaks) but need to tweak em just a little bit. Here is the list: Shoplifters of the World Unite to Improve Your Tastes FINALLY...the PKY version of the Astros lineup and songs that go with the appropriate players (it's a response to the version the Press ran). Jan Wenner is Killing Music Josh Groban is the Devil If You Don't Worship the Wire, FUCK YOU! (I expect Nate will help me out with that one). And some reviews. Hopefully one will be for the Uncle Ruckus Xmas tunes if they ever fucking release them. Oh, what is that? You don't know about Uncle Ruckus? Check this out.

The Please Kill Yourself Standard for Music

NOFX...still relevant to music

Every Tuesday I gotta show up at work at 6 a.m. to put out all the new music and DVD's the store gets it. We recieve these little "Action Lists" that tell us what titles to put where and what to pull off of prominent displays and shuffle into their respective section. A couple weeks ago, NOFX dropped their second live disc, "They've Actually Gotten Worse Live!" and we recieved a whopping 3 copies. They're currently nestled right between the Jonas Brothers and Josh Groban's Xmas disc. And no one has even TOUCHED a copy of it (and scores of Hot Topic crews waltz in everyday). And why would they? Sure, NOFX sells out all 4 shows a year they play in ONE California town (you're fucking guilty of this too Mike Ness) and of course if they actually did a legitamate tour instead of Fat Mike focusing on getting 12 year olds who can't even vote to mobilize against Bush, it would surely be a success. But those in attendance wouldn't want to hear Mike sermonize about good ol' W or even a track off of So Long...And Thanks for All the Shoes. They'd want to spazz out to shit from Punk in Drublic, WTTHAAB, and the Longest Line. Not "Idiot Son of a Moron." So why put out a live recording sprinkled with hits and overwhelmed by tracks not even die-hard NOFX fans give two fucks about? It might just be a cash grab or it might just be a desperate attempt by the band to convince themselves that as they moved beyond juvenile tunes of boredom and pseudo-angry jabs at the PC towards more politically conscious subject matter (ala Green Day) that the kids are still as stoked to see those four letters on an album cover like the did in 1994. Sorry, guys, that just ain't the fucking case. Give it up.

Eat My Shit Black Nathan, Part Deux

Heil Hippies!

If you're not already a fan of the kings of Norwegian "boner rock" the Cumshots then this video should quickly change that. Aside from playing kick ass music the band apparently likes to have euro-hippies who make porn to raise money to save the Rain Forest get down and nasty on stage. Do you think Al Gore is down with this level of commitment to environmental awareness? Would he bang Tipper on the lawn of the White House just to get W to admit that global warming is a reality? I think not.

The Finest Cinematic Performances in Punk Rock History

No one is ever happy with their success as a musician. It’s an unfortunate truth that we see everyday with the constant barrage of rockers, rappers, country stars and the occasional crooner trying to extend their talents to the art of acting. Sure it can be pretty amusing and some of these people ain’t too bad but I guarantee you they won’t be interviewed by James Lipton in this lifetime. What I find the most entertaining out of the whole pack are the old punk rockers from the 70’s and 80’s who’ve taken a stab at the silver screen. Therefore, get ready for the greatest cinematic performances from punk rock actors. Lee Ving of Fear in Flashdance I could’ve chosen the composer of the romantic ballad “Beef Bologna” for his work as Mr. Body in Clue but…FLASHDANCE? Lee Ving playing a sleazy 80’s club owner trying desperately to get into Jennifer Beal’s leotard is both funny and weird. After all, Lee Ving insulted a Saturday Night Live audience for about five minutes (John Belushi got them on the show) before exploding into a rock ‘n’ roll riot with loads of kids slamming into each other and stage diving. He then proceeded to viciously trash Ronald Reagan and his supporters to a barrage of boos and played “Let’s Have a War.” All of those cool points instantly vanished because of Flashdance. John Doe of X in Road House It’s funny that a skimpy porn-stache was all it took to make X front man John Doe look like a total sleazebag in mullet-fu opus Road House. He played the bartender who got kicked the hell out of a window via a Patrick Swayze round house kick and later would morbidly thrust his pelvis while firing off a shot gun. Still, as horrible as his participation in the project was it cannot diminish the awesome genius of “Adult Books” or “The World’s a Mess it’s in my Kiss.” David Johansen of the New York Dolls in Scrooged I struggled with this choice. Davie Jo has been in loads of stuff and it was hard to decide to include his turn as the ghost cabby in Scrooged or when he got shived by Nazi’s on an episode of Oz. The scariest part about the former Buster Poindexter as the demented cab driver in the holiday flick was that he looked a lot less scary in that make up than he did when he was all tarted up in the Dolls. Wendy O. Williams of the Plasmatics in a Porno Okay, Wendy was a truly remarkable front woman whether she was belting out songs about maggots, smashing T.V.’s and buses, or being the only chick to ever look sexy with a 2 foot Mohawk. Her career took a dark turn towards the end of her life (she committed suicide) but we can all get a giggle out of this underground classic. Do you remember that joke in the South Park Movie about Winona Ryder’s “ping-pong” trick? Yeah, Wendy does it for real.

Radio Anti-Romantica

The deal with my old work is that the employees either have to listen to a CD of Italian Festival “Favorites” or 106.9 the Point (they claim to play the best of the 1980’s and more, which I staunchly dispute). Yeah, it’s slim pickings on the radio dial. As a music nazi, it makes me go completely insane to hear shit that is only noteworthy in the annals of 80’s music history because it was featured in a fucking John Hughes movie. If all it takes to make your shit long lasting in our pop culture subconscious is play during a movie then why the fuck aren’t the Plimsouls or Josie goddamned Cotton in the rotation? But, I digress. So, since I am required to listen to the same 30 or so songs allow me to present you with my internal dialogue that kicks in upon hearing the first chord. Rick Springfield – “Jesse’s Girl” Rick, I’m so glad I’m not your friend. It’s not that I haven’t dated some girls that were previously companions to friends but I never fucking fantasized about them or the sex they were having with the aforementioned dudes. Oooh, you’re creepy. I’m willing to bet this song arose from a shitcanned subplot on whatever weak soap opera he was on back before he blessed us with his musical prowess. Falco – “Rock Me Amadeus” And the winner for the most pretentious song ever goes to…some German douchebag named Falco. Yeah, bro, you outshined Bono like the sun. If you have forgotten the dense subject matter of “Rock Me Amadeus” let me reacquaint you with the theme. Over a horrible drum machine, cheesy synthesizer and ungodly laughable sub-Poison hair metal guitar lick this guy (who sounds eerily similar to Penn Jillette) lists off the amazing accomplishments of the famed composer and then, to cap it all off, we are left with “In 1980 (something), German composer Falco records…R-r-r-r-r-r-r-ock me Amadeus!” Ok, shithead, you wrote something that sounds like it came pre-programmed on your fucking Casio and you have the balls to compare yourself to Mozart? The only good thing that arose from this unholy abomination is the Simpsons’ version used in their Planet of the Apes musical. Journey – “Don’t Stop Believing” & “Separate Ways” You know, why does everything associated with cancer come off in a negative light? Why is cancer so terrible overall? Sure, it claimed Thompson and Superman’s wife but if the new Hitler or Osama Bin Laden got some tumors would you really think it was a bad thing? Yeah, that’s what I thought. The fact that Steve Perry has throat cancer and can never befoul this world with his mullet shaking vox for these two tunes makes me really question my Atheism. There just might be some divine being intervening in this world for the collective good. And yes, the fact that I’m an Astros fan factored heavily into what you just read. FUCK JOURNEY! Peter Cetera – “The Glory of Love” & “After All” Whoa, whoa, whoa, Kenny Loggins! Where the fuck do you think you’re going? You have no right to the Ultimate Wuss Rock Throne, bitch. That is reserved exclusively for Peter Cetera. The guy who used to play bass for Chicago (oh, we all expected greatness from his solo career) has now ranked above Fred Durst on my must punch list. I guarantee you that if you look up the word “pussy” in the dictionary this guy’s pick will be greeting you next to the text. Come on, we all remember that song from the Karate Kid II and the scars still haven’t healed. By the way, didn’t Daniel san hit some Japanese gash in that flick? I haven’t seen it since I was like 10 but I remember him making out with the chick and then the fade to black. Well, if Peter Cetera helped get him laid then Ralph Machio needs to buff out that notch on his bedpost. Devo – “Whip It” FOR THE LOVE OF FUCKING ELVIS WHEN WILL PEOPLE FINALLY REALIZE THAT DEVO IS ONE OF THE GREATEST BANDS OF ALL TIME AND NOT LAZILY FILE THEM AWAY INTO THE “GIMMICK BAND” CATEGORY JUST CAUSE THEY DRESSED LIKE NERDS IN HAZMAT SUITS? IF WE’RE GONNA CELEBRATE THIS AMAZING BAND ON THE FM DIAL THEN CAN I PLEASE GET SOME “GATES OF STEEL,” “UNCONTROLABLE URGE,” OR “JOCKO HOMO” MIXED IN WITH THE MTV HIT? NO? THEN QUIT FUCKING PLAYING IT UNTIL YOU LEARN TO SHOW SOME RESPECT! Nena – “99 Red Balloons” I actually dig this song. It’s as upbeat of a tune about nuclear holocaust as you can produce. I only wish that a. people will, 20 years later, a. actually understand that it’s about nuclear holocaust and b. the DJ’s will quit calling her Nina like her last name is Simone. Pat Benatar – “Invincible” Anybody else remember The Legend of Billie Jean? That shit was supposed to be Helen Slater’s big breakthrough but instead her little brother got the career out of aping Jack Nicholson. Oh yeah, Lisa Simpson was in that too and if you remember her aesthetic then you understand why she subsists primarily on voice work. Anyhoo, this was the big rally song in that flick when a bunch of Corpus Christi teens flocked to the beach so that Binx could get his prized motor scooter fixed up without some dickpig sticking it to his sister. Bon Jovi – “I’ll Be There for You” Who created this fucking planet? How in the world does some no talent studio rat fuckwad waltz his way into a lucrative recording contract and purple spandex simultaneously only to have the public eat it up? So, this is Jon’s big “monster ballad” and is just so saccharine that I can’t stomach it. We get it, Jon…you dig the hell out of this chick. We don’t need a five-minute song filled with horribly clichéd metaphors to understand that. Oh, and how about that line, “Words can’t say what love can do?” Yeah, bitch. You just helped me prove that this song shouldn’t have been written by the mutual exclusivity of your brilliant prose. Either words can say what love can do or they can’t, Jersey boy.

The Please Kill Yourself Guide to Proper Ball Park Etiquette

I love baseball and going to the games, but lately I’ve been noticing so much bullshit at the ballpark that I just can’t take it anymore. Seeing a game as it’s played in the park should be an incredibly enjoyable experience just like a rock ‘n’ roll show. But, like those glorious events, a few assholes always seem to arrive and fuck things up. If you don’t wanna be part of the growing problem then please follow these simple rules the next time you venture out to see your local ball club play nine innings. STOP DOING THE WAVE – This shit was supposed to be a fad in the 70’s but has miraculously managed to carry its way into the new millennium. Look, I don’t go to games to be seen. I go to watch the fucking game, man. So stop trying to get sections of the crowd to all stand up at once just for the overwhelming thrill of seeing a domino effect across the stadium. I always object to this practice and when the offenders are in my section and are obscuring my view of the play (usually in the late innings of a one run game) I start shouting obscenities and telling the fucktards to sit the hell down. I’m sorry you’re bored with the game but that doesn’t mean the rest of us are. Sit the fuck down and by the way, it’s still too soon after the recent Asian tsunami tragedy to do the wave and not be in obvious poor taste. And while we’re on the subject of absolutely retarded cheers…knock off the “OLE! OLE! OLE! OLE!” bullshit. This ain’t a fucking soccer game or Flogging Molly show, dickhead. CONTROL YOUR FUCKING KIDS - The last time I went to Minute Maid Park with Black Nathan, we were mere rows ahead of a little bastard constantly yelling for someone to give him a baseball and screaming like a goddamned banshee. Okay, mom and dad, before you take little Johnny or Susie to the game think twice before indulging them with two bags of cotton candy, six jumbo sodas and a few ice cream sundaes. I wanna hear the hecklers, crack of the bat and cheers/boos not your heathen offspring. And do not give me judgmental scorn when you hear expletives flying out of my mouth around your precious little angels. You’re watching a game where the players routinely adjust their crotches, spit, curse and occasionally brawl. Besides, a few “fucks” never hurt anyone’s adolescent development. DRESS ACCORDINGLY – Look, if you’re there rooting for the away team I totally understand you sporting their gear. I hate you for it, but it makes sense. That’s your team and you wanna show support. Cool. But, why the fuck are you wearing American League team apparel to an N.L. game? I love the Red Sox but you don’t see me rocking my Papelbon jersey at an Astros game. You’re a Cubs fan? First, I feel sorry for you and second, if they aren’t playing then leave the cap at home, bro. Oh, and if you’re one of the guys who roots for division rivals and wears both teams logos (Astros/Cardinals for example) you’re an idiot and need to make up your fucking mind. You don’t see that shit happen at Fenway, Wrigley or any of the real baseball towns. And ladies, please stop dressing like hookers. Does it really make sense to sport a mini skirt that stops at your labia, six-inch stiletto heels and a tube top that can’t contain your jugs at a baseball game? It’s not like you dolts are out trolling for dick…you’ve got a dude there with you sporting tribal tattoos and Dockers. Is the self-esteem boost you get from fat, drunken slobs drooling over your silicone ass really that important? FUCK YOUR CAMERA – Unless you have a NASA powered zoom lens or are sitting mere inches away from the dugouts your pictures are going to come out looking shitty. And if you just have to take a snapshot of you and your buddies blitzed out of their heads at the ballpark don’t move into the middle of the aisle during game play to capture that memento. In fact, just leave your cameras behind. Go down to the lower concourse and get a FREE, pseudo-professional photo to take back home with you. Even the organization knows how much of an annoyance this shit is and has come up with a pretty sweet solution to end the problem. Get with it. CELL PHONES AND THE PRIMO SEATS – So, this one comes watching the games on T.V. and happens just about everywhere. Right behind home plate and the protective netting are some of the sweetest seats a baseball fan can score. In Houston, they’re called the Diamond Club seats. I was lucky enough to catch the previous College Baseball Classic from there and they provide an amazing view to the game. Unfortunately, most of the people who sit there around various local celebrities and team staff spend games chatting on their cell phones and waving to the cameras. You are total prats. The loyal and die hard fans for the team that are at almost every game in the nose bleed section would sell their first born for a crack at those tickets. They would savor every second of being able to observe the pitcher’s mechanics, the defensive shifts, catcher moves and seeing the ball leap off the wood of the bat. They would not be talking to their yuppie friends constantly saying, “Can you see me in the shot?” with a mongoloid grin on their faces. Next time you come into possession of those coveted tickets offer them to someone sitting next to Mars, watch the game from their usual vantage point and hopefully you’ll understand the great privilege you somehow continually acquire. RALLY CAPS – If you really must relive this little league tradition because you think that turning your hat inside out will magically appease the baseball gods so that they will bless the maple of the 8 spot hitter then remember to turn that shit back to its proper form when the opposition is batting. What, you want those fuckers to rally too?

A song for the ladies (yes, this is real)

Y'know, it's good that music has moved beyond the shallow realm of women sadly lamenting over cheating guys. Now we've progressed onto casual accusations that wouldn't make a Maury Povich b-reel. While it is still fine for the people with penises to spout out "WHORE" or "SLUT" whenenver they feel it helps emphasize their infantile emotions, women are still expected to proudly sing "Be My Baby" even if their boyfriend is holding them hostage in a mansion. And is verbally abusive. And is physically abusive. And is an overall douchebag despite his artistic brilliance. Well, ladies, Riskay has stepped up and put all that shit in the bin bag. Be proud. http://youtube.com/watch?v=8VhPHtKinmA sorry I couldn't embed this but the author of this generational touchstone wouldn't allow it. J

Eat My Shit Black Nathan

Yeah, it's gonna be about the Red Sox. I'm still trying to comprehend living in a world where the Red Sox are feared. It's pretty fucking awesome. Even more awesome is the half-retarded, bat shit crazy closer they have named Jonathan Papelbon. You see, until this year, 2004 seemed like a fluke (a fucking glorious world ending one, at that) because of the disappointing playoff runs of the the following two years. Now, with the first post-Curse of the Fat Hooker Banging Drunk trophy, the world is suddenly anew. The possibilities for a bright and shiny tomorrow are endless. No longer are the members of the Nation hanging nooses from the rafters expecting a September or October collapse. They're all now saving money for bar tabs when the Red Sox...well...win. Papelbon's variation on the Irish jig is a sign of that optimism and unabounded elation. Shit, I did this in the middle of Fitzgerald's after he hurled his glove in to oblivion. And I never get tired of seeing it.

It has begun

Alright, so in order to keep Please Kill Yourself running, I've decided to take it into blog territory. My hope is that with my constant (and often drunken postings) I'll have enough content to do a hard copy of the zine since I know all you bastards love reading the thing while blasting dooks. I'm totally cool with that and I do understand how hard it is to find a good, quick read while on the throne. If I had a laptop I guarantee you I would just read Deadspin or WithLeather on the toilet. So, here we go. Expect the usuals: rants, reviews, no values, trash and chaos only in BLOG form. We'll see how this thing goes and hopefully it will aid in the resurrection of the long forgotten Fat Elvis Social Lounge. J