Please Kill Yourself

FUCK SOPA

2012-01-18T14:51:00.001-06:00

Dillinger Four vs. HR

2012-01-12T15:32:00.005-06:00

Dillinger Four released a live album back in 2003 and if you didn't hear it then you really missed out. Not that live albums from punk bands are anything spectacular but because the band rarely tours and if you've never gotten to experience their stage banter then First Avenue Live is something you should get hip to real quick. Paddy is one of the funniest and sharpest musicians I have ever interviewed (I'll dig through the print back issues and see if I can find my interview with him) and onstage the band is just lights out comedy gold. But, when you add the Bad Brains (or Soul Brains as they, for some batshit insane reason, were calling themselves then) flaking out on the show with an answering machine apology from perma-stoned HR you get some comedy gold.

Aside from teasing the crowd with pieces of the message, they eventually attempt to call HR back and this is what happens.

And then at the end of the night, the brilliant ramblings of HR. This is one of my favorite things ever.

The Absolute Worst Shit Borders Forced Upon My Ears Last Year

2011-12-30T15:09:00.015-06:00

My four years spent at Borders weren't all bad. I made some great friends, I have some stories I can dine out on for years but most of the music that corporate would mandate we play in the store was just straight up ass. True, there were some good selections at times like Sharon Jones, Flogging Molly, Trombone Shorty, Johnny Cash, Yo La Tengo and even MGMT's good record...and that's the best I can come up with over that stretch. It does little to diminish the psychic torment inflicted upon me by the likes of Celine Dion, Enya and motherfucking Coldplay. One day, I might mine my brain for the truly and utter shite (even though the Christmas music could arguably be considered the worst) but for now I will focus on the non-seasonal albums of 2011 that uber-tards in charge of the company demanded in constant rotation.

Glee - Whatever Fucking Piece of Shit Volume of the Soundtrack

Yeah, I'm getting this fucking garbage out of the way first. Fuck Glee, fuck Ryan Murphy and fuck you if you're a Gleek (I realize this includes some of my friends but I will not recant that statement). Look, I give the show credit for trying to bring a discussion about bullying and not shitting your pants whenever a gay person is around into the to pop-culture stew...but trying is all they accomplished. You want proof: SANTORUM, BITCHES! No matter how up his own ass Ryan Murphy gets about this neon-yellow bilious stream of excrement and it's social commentary the fact is the only thing people ever gave a shit about (aside from the writing staff at Entertainment Weekly)is the music. That's why the show was able to break the Beatles' Billboard record (and we, as a nation, should weep over being alive to witness and have our fellow Americans contribute to that) and no matter how big a pop-song they covered, the auto-tuned weasels almost always outsold and out shined the original artist. Here's the Cliff's Notes so I don't waste more time ranting on this rapidly dying rectal wart of a television show: the music is absolutely ghastly.

First, let's acknowledge that the people behind this aural terrorism do actually choose some fantastic songs...that shouldn't be covered. Ever. "River Deep, Mountain High" are you fucking kidding me? You dolts are going to have your group of expertly coiffed, under-talented and studio magic assisted rented mules try to tackle an Ike and Tina song? Get fucked. Or how bout the aforementioned Beatles or the Stones. And then there's totally misconstruing the actual meaning of a fucking song because it can be easily shoehorned into your contrived plots and the songwriters are eager for a fat check? All Glee does is lazily take pop songs down the Radio Disney or Kidz Bop! route and the aftermath is a successive stream of wet farts into the ears of people who have actual musical taste.

And, to be sure, Murphy loves to stroke his own ego and act like his show is the only way that kids will get into music and if your band says, "Fuck that noise. Glee is fucking lame" or "I don't want my music on that shit, I'd rather sell if to a gum company" he will troll you hard. Thankfully, Dave Grohl shut him the fuck up. And, hey, if you want to kids stoked about music and starting a band and rejecting mainstream norms than maybe you should've done an episode dedicated to Care Bears on Fire instead of Lady Gaga.

Lastly, FUCK YOU RYAN MURPHY FOR MAKING ME HAVE TO SIDE WITH THE KINGS OF LEON OVER ANYTHING!

(no video included because I will not have a clip or cover from Glee disgrace this blog)

Michael Buble - Crazy Love

Look, pop-stars are also meant to appeal to the masses on a superficial level to muck up the brain in case they have an aversion to whatever music they release. I get that middle-aged wino chicks need someone to get their granny panties lubed up before marathons of Sex and the City, but this fifth rate Harry Connick Jr. hoser is who they've picked? Come on ladies, Tom Jones is STILL dripping with tanning oil, a hearty musk of Brute, aged gash and can still make your vulvas thump! I'm sure at one point Buble was an actual crooner, wrote his own songs...okay that's just so ridiculous I can't even finish typing my previous musing. He's a total corporate stooge who finally built a large enough audience to be forced down the throats of the people who wake up to VH-1 every morning. That's why he went total Peter Cetera instead of raping more Sinatra tunes. Well, I guess we can be glad for that.

Susan Boyle - All of Them

Okay, so this mongoloid didn't release her new album until after Borders was shuffled loose this mortal coil but I'm including her previous records here because they were so insufferable I wish she'd turn into Katrina Bowden overnight so people would quit giving her credit for being extremely mediocre in every way possible.

Here is the scenario for every avowed Boyle-tard when they first saw her (no one ever heard voice before taking in her visage): " Okay, time to watch a bunch of misguided tools belt their brains out in front of under qualified, semi-successful record industry lemmings. Oh, my brain is tired. Let's let the TV talking heads tell me which record to buy next."

/sees Susan Boyle walk into camera view

"OH MY GOD! IT'S LIKE SLOTH FROM GOONIES RAPED AYN RAND BUT THE PLACENTA FUSED ITSELF ONTO THE CHILD'S FACE! KILL IT! KILL IT WITH FIRE!"

/Boyle begins to sing, lulling these easily duped twats into a state of total pacification with the heightened urge to buy her record.

And scene. Anyone who regards Susan Boyle with any consideration beyond being a lamentable pop-culture skid mark like William Hung or Fred Durst has no sense of art, creativity or life.

Brad Paisley - This is Country Music

Holy fuck this album is torture. But let's ignore the obvious musical shortcomings of Mr. Paisely (who should be resigned to making mediocre surf music) to focus on the lyrical content. The title track is so offensive to anyone who doesn't have their head up the Tea Party's ass. Let's break it down:

You're not supposed to say the word "cancer" in a song.

Really, why not? Who the fuck said you can't discuss cancer in music? I wish this line was, "You're not supposed to talk about/how Muslims are trying to kill us all" because at least you could justify such idiocy under the auspices of lame prejudice.

And telling folks Jesus is the answer can rub them wrong.

Well, yeah, I don't prefer to hear that shit in my music. But, then again, I still adore people like Mahalia Jackson and Johnny Cash. Of course, Richard Dawkins would probably become apoplectic over hearing about the glory of the lord if he gave two shits about pop music. Honestly, I don't see too many fans of modern country music being hardcore atheists. But go on, tortured white Christians, and keep thinking our vile secularist nation is oppressing you.

It ain't hip to sing about tractors, trucks, little towns and mama, yeah that might be true. But this is country music and we do.

No, dude, this is VERY hip right now. Not, hip, like, people in Brooklyn wearing over-sized glasses and retro NBA jerseys. Well, both groups are huge, gaping assholes. But looking at the state politics,it seems that blowing people who eat religiously at some monstrosity called a Pizza Ranch (I hear complimentary ranch dressing is served in beer pitchers) while eagerly awaiting to lick Rick Santorum's taint seems pretty en vouge. It's not like your extolling the virtues of a black president and lamenting the loss of Christopher Hitchens. Now, THAT would be very unhip.

And if there's anyone that still/ Has pride and memory of those/ That died defending the old red, white and blue/ This is country music and we do.

Oh really, asshole? The person that got this etched permanently on their body is who I imagine you are courting with these lyrics.

Well, let me retort to just about all your previous claims with this one song that features ruminations on religion, war, patriotism and love.

I firmly believe that country music, as a relevant musical (not social) genre died after Urban Cowboy. Sure, there are some great bands out now that are keeping the traditions of country music alive for those who regard Hank Williams with more love and devotion than Faith Hill or some asshat like Tobey Keith. Those Darlins' first record is a good example, I'm a very big fan of Sean Reefer but in general, country music has been diffused into nothing more than pop music for the Tea Party set.

Brad Paisley's album is the ultimate bullshit image of a divided America. It's just such a ridiculous, egregiously fake, Norman Rockwell painted narrative that it makes me wretch. And to be sure, there are plenty of oh so horrible songs to be singled out for righteous scorn but, in line with my aforementioned theory, the main offender has to be "Camouflage." To sum up this brilliant rhapsody of redneck decor, aside from being able to shoot stars and stripes out of your asshole on command, the next best act as a patriot you can perform is not donating to the Wounded Warrior Project, joining the military or volunteering at a VFW. No, it's painting your bad ass, shit-kicker, mean muddin' machine in camouflage! In fact, here are BradleyCoolDude's thoughts in the YouTube page for this aural atrocity: If you don't like camouflage, then your a communist and should leave the good ole' America.

I hope Brad Paisley gets gored to death by a bull at the rodeo this year.

Original Motion Picture Soundtrack - Country Strong

I've already spewed enough venom on modern country but when you add Gwyneth Paltrow into the mix and you have to hear it on loop for 8 hours a day then what you have is the audio equivalent of waterboarding.

Bonnie's Power Mix - A Liquidation Mix Made by My Last General Manager

I wasn't a fan of my last GM. She pushed out some good people, would NEVER go to bat for the employees or insert herself into a problem with an unruly customer and generally made liquidation SUCK OUT LOUD even more. But her mix CD (by the time Armageddon was in full swing we were allowed to play our own mix CD's) was pretty awful for reasons beyond some of the musical choices. Snap's "I Got the Power," Twisted Sister's "We're Not Gonna Take It" and even the motherfucking Rocky theme were included. I fail to see how those tunes will inspire power within me when I'm being berated by dumbass motherfuckers who can't read the fine print of an e-mail or don't get that they can no longer treat us like a public library and the fucking person in charge can't drag her ass away from kissing the liquidators ball sack to tell these people to leave her employees the fuck alone. Every day when I opened I would pull this disc out of the mix replace it with the Disney song collection (no joke) someone else came up with. Yes, listening to Robing Williams rap was more pleasurable than hearing the jarring switch from 80's pop relics to "Flight of the Valkyries." And she would return it to its place. I'm GLAD you were tortured by my morose Tom Waits mix. But the true turd burned to disc was that horrible Daniel Powter song that became a hit because it was featured on the show most likely to give your ears AIDS, American Idol.

Who in their right fucking mind would choose to play this FOR THE BENEFIT OF THEIR EMPLOYEES EMOTIONS that are facing unemployment, unrepentant bargain hunters literally tearing your store apart, and non-stop lines of people bitching, "Oh that's all you're gonna take off of that? That's not worth it to me. I'll come back when the prices go down." Wait, who in their right fucking mind with kindergarten level social skills and a comprehension of basic human emotion would drop a buck on that shit on iTunes? Yeah, go fuck yourself Bonnie. Hey at least, I played something positive in my mix CD instead of what I really wanted to put on loop, which would've been this:

Jay Debauchery's Top 10 Records of 2011, Part Deux

2011-12-29T14:29:00.009-06:00

5. Tom Waits - Bad as Me (Anti)

"Listen to the general! Every goddamn word," Waits growls on his first studio album in seven years and one that just might outshine his previous, 2004's cult classic Real Gone (well, aren't they all cult classics? Sure, Waits is in the the R 'N' R Hall of Fame but do you really see people giving this man as much credit or love as Bono? Glad we can all agree on that. FUCK BONO!). Tom Waits said his wife told him to crank out the tunes fast and furious and to be short and concise and it is a glorious collection of from one of the most interesting and continually innovative American artists of all time. Weaved within the howlers like the title track, "Hell Broke Luce" and "Get Lost" are quieter tracks, like "Back in the Crowd" that showcase just how powerful Wait's voice can be when he isn't hammering your brain with his carnival barker rasp (note: this is not complaint nor criticism). Plus, Keith Richards plays guitar on this. How the fuck can you go wrong with Keef if someone like Waits is cracking the whip? Everett True quoted a friend on Facebook describing this album as, "the best kind of 'more of the same.' Spot on. Oh and I arbitrarily ranked it this high because the lone official video released has no emu's in it.Anti gets Tom some emu's, like they did before, and in 2012 I switch all this shit up. Got it?

4. Thee Oh Sees - Carrion Crawler/The Dream (In the Red)

Not content to release one awe inspiring psychedelic skull-fuck this year, John Dwyer and co. pumped this record out (originally conceived as two E.P.'s) about six months after the sunshine-pop filled, deliriously trippy, Castlemania and I struggled about which record would retain this spot for a bit. In fact, all I did on my Xmas shift at the hospital was bounce back and forth between the two, nodding my head uncontrollably, receiving concerned glares from my co-workers who are most certainly not accustomed to acid-flashback inspiring garage rock excellence. In the end, Carrion Crawler/The Dream wins out because the band drifts off into unexpected realms, leaving the music totally unpredictable. Plus, it's the noisier of the two. It's a fantastic record and it might be their masterpiece.

3. P.J. Harvey - Let England Shake (Vagrant)

Holy fuck, people, this record is unbelievably brilliant and incredibly difficult for me to write about without hyperbole. Bottom line, Polly Jean is still on the minimalist kick and along with Mick Harvey and John Parish she has crafted a wicked political album that is probably the most haunting and acerbic (well, lyrically at least) of her career. You just can't shake some of the images she splashes across your brain. Let England Shake is the most pleasurable musical punch to the balls you'd ever like to receive. She truly is the Patti Smith of her generation.

2. Mind Spiders - S/T (Dirtnap)

This is another record I was shocked (to almost violent rage) that didn't make it on almost ANY top 10 list. Are you fucking kidding me? Mark Ryan (of the amazing, criminally underrated, Marked Men) pumps out an amazing garage-pop album and just because it's released in January and not blown by the blogosphere like Bon Iver or whatever other horseshit was stylistically calculated to appease lazy music writers searching for a quick write up, this rad piece of wax gets relegated to the metaphorical dustbin? Fuck that noise. The Marked Men were, from the get go, one of the best bands on the planet and Ryan has carried that tradition on while managing to get weird at times while maintaining their obsession for 60's pop. If you don't see hope for the future of pop music in this band then Van Gogh yourself...twice!

1. Fucked Up - David Comes to Life (Matador)

If this is the end of Fucked Up, then they've gone out on an incredibly high note. Few bands can successfully do the concept album and when you throw in hardcore punk bands to the mix the odds get exponentially lower. However, these cats managed to magnificently pull it off, plotting the beats of their "rock opera" in a Toronto food court while retooling the music to coincide with it. Alongside the album, they released singles coloring the fictional town the story takes place in that run the gamut from the could have been on a KBD comp, "My Old Man's a Ginger" to the dreamy 90's alt-rock on, "Light Rain" or even the garage-pop on, "It's Hard to Be a Dad".

But, what is first and foremost here is the music on the album itself. I've been a total fanboy for Fucked Up ever since I heard Epics in Minutes. I've been thrilled to see the band progress beyond the second coming of Black Flag label that was thrust upon them, deservedly so, earlier in their career. Mike Haliecheck, the architect of this group's brilliant brand of sonic assault, deserves much of the credit for the records' success but it's frontman Damien Abraham's ripped-throat snarl that ferociously delivers the many emotional gut punches perfectly placed throughout the record. And despite the incredibly high bar this records sets for Fucked Up, I'm sure whatever it is they unleash upon us next will be at the very least, on par with David Comes to Life.

EP of the Year - Tie

Future of the Left - Polymers are Forever (Xtra Mile)

So, they dropped the bassist that has been with Andy Falkous since mclusky and added a second guitarist and yet, the proper question is, how fucking more awesome could this band get? Waaaaay more rad, folks.

Trash Talk - Awake (True Panther)

If Cerebral Ballzy weren't so drunk (not a complaint) and more into metal.

Jay Debauchery's Top 10 Records of 2011, Part Une

2011-12-24T16:15:00.015-06:00

Alright, here we go. Some of these have popped up (deservedly so) in every possible corner of the internet and print media. Some have not. I stand by my list until next year when I look it over, go back through all the records I neglected to mention and end up hammering my asshole with a meat tenderizer.

10. Police Teeth - Awesomer Than the Devil (Latest Flame)

I copped this off of Shiny Grey Montone (I have a physical copy now, thank you) at the suggestion of Soulless Brother #1 (aka Black Nathan) and it fucking blew me away. Imagine if Superchunk went full on balls out with the volume cranked, hints of Future of the Left, Seaweed and Fugazi and you've got this kick ass bit of wax. "Summertime Bruise" hasn't left my head since I heard it.

9. Smith Westerns - Dye it Blonde (Fat Possum)

These kids are just so goddamned good. Much more polished this time around, the Smith Westerns are still obsessed with Marc Bolan, Teenage Fanclub and I Should Coco era Supergrass (just listen to "Weekend" or "Imagine, Pt. 3" and tell me I'm wrong) and seem to effortlessly craft sublime pop songs. I was surprised to see these guys land on so few year end lists but I guess that's what happens when you can't hype a band beyond their first record and the follow up comes out at the beginning of the year. Go back and listen to this along with their self-titled and tell me your not stoked about what they'll lay on us next.

8. Lords of Altamont - Midnight to 666 (Fargo) The Lords don't reinvent themselves or their scuzzed up 60's inspired (duh) psych/biker punk but unlike their previous release, The Altamont Sin, the band cranks the fuzz and Farfisa up to 11 with a nice thick sound to muddy your ears. Maybe it's the addition of members of the Fuzztones and Cramps that brought the band back to their former glory (Lords Have Mercy). Bonus points are awarded for their cover of the Dead Boys' "Ain't it Fun."

7. Davila 666 - Tan Bajo (In the Red)

Let's put off the critical discussion for a moment and go into total fanboy territory. First, you need to listen to this. And then this track from the Pepper Pots. If they hook up we are assured some bad ass pop music in the future. Anyhoo, the finest group of garage enthusiasts out of Puerto Rico have returned with a lo-fi compilation of punked up Richie Valens tunes that will provide the perfect soundtrack to your summer bar-b-cue. In between the hepped up rockers ("Patitas") there are some straight Phil Spector ballads ("Eso Que Me Haces"). I love this record so much I included one of the songs on my ill fated wedding playlist which you can dig below.

6. The Gaye Blades - S/T (Norton)

This spot should've been reserved for the Night Beats LP (and hey, I can still change my mind but I wanna at least get half of this list up tonight) but this was a last minute listen that really hit me hard. Pretty much what you get is the Black Lips meets Gentleman Jesse and that's because it's Jared Swilley and Jesse Smith (who also slays in the Carbonas) and it results in the only band that can be mentioned alongside greats like Shoes, the Action and the Exploding Hearts. No, this won't shake your world like Guitar Romantic but it will remind you to have faith that power-pop ,in America, will eventually burst through to the mainstream once again. Sure, the production and vocals are (intentionally) raw but it just makes the album more endearing and highlights the strengths of the songwriting. So what if they don't harmonize perfect and the guitar is slightly out of tune? This is going to be stuck in your head for eons. Essentially, it's a long lost Bomp! record released in 2011. We should all be happy as a pig in shit for that.

The Top Ten Songs I Didn't Hear at Jay Debauchery's Wedding

2011-12-24T06:42:00.005-06:00

So, as mentioned in an earlier post by Mr. Debauchery, I have been invited to take time away from my literary blog, Poppycock Press (I know, I know, shameless self-promotion, but hey, I got a following to build), to come write a top ten list for 2011 in Please Kill Yourself (If you are reading this now, you have not followed instructions very well, now have you?). My main problem in constructing an idea for a top ten list is that I have spent much of the year listening to old records that I haven't pulled out in years (the only new album I payed any attention to was Fucked Up's "David Comes to Life"), reading old literature while almost finishing off David Foster Wallace's entire collection of books (my new favorite author--wish I had discovered him before he offed himself), and generally avoiding Television--aside from Breaking Bad and Mad Men--like the digital rays are going to form a phallic wave and skull-fuck mindaids directly into my cerebral cortex (Hey, you never know with modern technology. I'm pretty sure my cell phone could cook me breakfast if I found the right app.). You could say I am not hip to the current cultural landscape. The kids would not find me cool, fresh, dope, groovy, chill, or whatever funky new nickname they call it these days. However, I did attend a special event this year, the union of Mr. and Mrs. Debauchery. Of course, side-note here, Can Mr. Jay Debauchery still call himself "Debauchery" now that he is married and has a real job? (Ed note: Yes. Yes we can. The absolute scumbaggery that happened at my bachelor means that I can claim my Mark Twain for life). I vote that we rechristen our old friend--perhaps the cliched "The blogger formerly known as Jay Debauchery," or if I can throw my suggestion into the box, I like "Jay Homeowner." It has a nice ring to it. Of course, any other suggestions should be posted in the comments section of this post and we'll vote on it later. For now, being that this is the end of 2011, we'll give him a few more days of pride in his last name and continue to refer to him as "Mr. Debauchery" from here on out in this post, but when 2012 comes it's Mr. Homeowner all the way. Alas, I digress, the whole point of this long-winded introduction was to say that certain promises were made and horribly broken regarding this wedding, and no I am not talking about the strippers (Tweedle Fat and Tweedle Crackhead) at his bachelor party. That's another story altogether. I was referring to a certain auditory environment that was promised to his longtime friends and sharers in the tradition of ultra-music-snobbery. Instead, we were treated to the same old doldrums of shitty overplayed Sinatra tunes and fore some reason this...

So without further adieu, I present my contribution to Please Kill Yourself's Best of 2011...

The Top Ten Songs I Didn't Hear at Jay Debauchery's Wedding

10) The Dwarves - I Wanna Be Your Pimp

For a man that lists his new bride under the name "Bottom Bitch" in his iPhone (if you aren't familiar with the terminology, you should read this book), certainly I should have been treated to Blag Dahlia's ruminations on love and Greyhound buses. If the Dwarves were considered too aggressive for the mass contingent of Aggies at Jay's wedding then certainly a Houston classic could have fit the bill perfectly, which brings me to...

9) UGK - International Players Anthem

Aside from the aforementioned labeling of Mr. Debauchery's one and only, what more could you want to hear at a wedding of two native Houstonians, other than the H-Town duo of Bun B and Pimp C featuring the lyrical stylings of none other than Outkast's Andre 3000 and Big Boi over the Motown Classic "I Choose You" by Willie Hutch? If you can't get your ass moving on the dance floor to this, then you either have no ass or hate good music. And speaking of great Houston artists, we should switch up the genres here and wonder why no...

8) Townes Van Zandt - If I Needed You

We're in Texas. I think we're entitled to at least one slow country love song that doesn't make white people look like toddlers discovering their legs for the first time when they try to dance. I mean, seriously, all the shitty modern pop that was played at his wedding left the dance floor a choppy ocean of maroon during hurricane season. Also, with a self-appointed moniker like "Debauchery," how could we not have honored one of the forefathers of drunken buffoonery? And speaking of drunken buffoonery, I would have loved to hear this...

7) Danny Boy

Who qualifies as bigger drunks than the Irish? For a man who so brazenly declares his Irish heritage every 20 seconds or so, we couldn't listen to the Irish American national anthem. Yes, in the end, we did get some Pogues and some Dropkick Murphys after Mr. Debauchery finally yelled at the two numskull deejays who seemed perfect for any Jewish kid's bar mitzvah (I think I may have gotten their card), and yes, it's more of a funeral hymn, but like I questioned his nickname earlier, I do feel that marriage is kind of the funeral for us debaucherous souls.

OK, OK, so honestly, this is Soulless Brother #1's contribution to the post. We just wanted a chance to include some Coen Brothers. As Soulless Brother #1 would say, "Go Minnesota!" And speaking of talented Minnesotans, really?!, none of this either...

6) The Replacements - Can't Hardly Wait

(Ed note: This did in fact play but was what gave the DJ's cold feet about my play list. Fuck them! Mikey, we were out smoking at the time)>Considering Mr. Debauchery lists this song himself at the very top of his own wedding playlist, I was quite surprised to not hear one of the ultimate punk rock love songs at the wedding. When I hear this song, I think of mix-tapes for girls in high school, I get the old butterflies in my stomach from thoughts of old love affairs, and bonus, because of the 90's tradition of shitty high school party films, I can envision my high school infatuation with Jennifer Love Hewitt's breasts because of the crappy movie which ripped off it's title from this song. And while we're on the ultimate punk rock love songs, we definitely should have been treated to some of this...

5) The Dead Boys - All This and More

My vote is that this song should have been played close to the end. A little sexy, a little raunchy, perfect for working up a young couple ready to consecrate their marriage. Of course, as I mentioned earlier, there weren't just punk music snobs at the wedding. The contingent of Aggies and typical white folks was quite high so the wedding playlist certainly had to appease these members of the crowd as well. But if the deejays were only going to play shitty standards, then they could have at least allowed us to hear some of the songs we ironically love like...

4) Elvis Presley - Suspicious Minds

Now, this isn't exactly a happy-go-lucky love song, but it would serve as a solid reminder to the bride and groom that their relationship from here on out must be free of jealousy. No, Mr. and Mrs. Debauchery, you cannot go on together with suspicious minds. Your relationship must be built on trust if it is to last. Besides, Courtney, if you knew how much fun your husband didn't have at his own bachelor party, you'd love him forever on that alone. Additionally, this is one of two Elvis songs that I'll actually stand behind (the other of course being "In the Ghetto" but that's not exactly wedding material), and if you saw the crowd at that wedding, there must have been at least a couple of Elvis diehards. Besides, you try not to have a blast singing along to the chorus of this song. It's impossible. Now, we shouldn't spend too much time ironically listening to music, as is the case that if the wedding deejays had done their job by playing a nice mix of shitty standard wedding music and the elusive wedding playlist of the groom, or if Mr. Debauchery had done us all a favor and threatened to withhold their pay, we would have no need for this here post. But we do, so I'll add one more to the tally...

3) Blowfly - I Wanna Be Fellated

It's a parody of one of Mr. Debauchery's favorite bands, and I just kind of always wanted to hear a Blowfly track played at a wedding. I know it's a little much to ask, but fuck it, it's my list and I'll bitch if I want to. But now, for a serious addition...

2) Tom Waits - Sea of Love

While this isn't a Waits original, it's certainly an amazing rendition, and if we're to be honest here, Tom Waits original material on love isn't exactly the most hopeful wedding music. But certainly Mr. Debauchery, like most music snobs, has Tom Waits on his Mount Rushmore of songwriters, and we should have subjected the normal folk to his gravelly, haunting, and ultimately perfect and beautiful voice. It is truly a travesty that no Tom Waits was played at the wedding. No joking here. And now the unveiling, of the one song, without a doubt that we will all regret missing out on at Jay "My Life is All Picket Fences, Children, and the Farewell of my Youthful Dreams from Here on Out" Debauchery's (1981-2011) wedding...

1) Lil John - Get Low

Oh wait, Nevermind! We totally heard this at his wedding. Oh, skeet skeet skeet motherfucker! I mean, seriously, did Mr. Debauchery really pick this out? I will agree that there is nothing more debaucherous than spilling semen all over your beloveds face till the sweat drips from your balls, but it still seems more of a honeymoon track to me. Oh, skeet skeet skeet motherfucker! Of course, I can't say I'm completely disappointed either. I'm not sure if Soulless Brother #1's masturbatory gestures in plain view of the bride's entire family were more amusing or the dance floor flooded with white Aggie bridesmaids cheering for their own desecration. Oh skeet skeet skeet motherfucker...whoop! Oh skeet skeet skeet whoop! Hey, I kind of like that addition. Oh, another side-note here, I did a little debauchery of my own at the wedding, and let's just say that dried up skeet on a maroon dress kind of turns into a burnt orange color. Who knew? I don't know if we can use this covert information as some sort of new clothing line to bring Aggies and Longhorns back together. You know, like the bloods and the crips "Crosscolors" line in the early 90's.

So, there you have it...The Top Ten Songs I Didn't Hear at Jay Debauchery's Wedding. In all seriousness, I wish you and Courtney the best in your marriage and am truly sorry for you guys about all the hiccups with the idiots at the wedding venue. In the immortal words of Wu Tang Clan, I hope one day you get to find those deejays, sew their assholes shut, and keep feeding them and feeding them and feeding them. With that, I'm out! Oh skeet skeet skeet motherfuckers!

Quick Update on Things to Come

2011-12-22T19:23:00.005-06:00

Appy-polly-logies for the lack of updates lately. Me and Mrs. just honeymooned it in New Orleans and I work the Xmas holiday and fucking slacked on shopping for everyone and I'm still super bummed about Hitch's death while the Kardashians continue to draw breath and, hey, I'm trying to get back on track with the whole blog/zine (yes, we ARE coming back in print) thing. So, to get your jeans super tight/wet, here are some things coming down the pipe that have been actively worked on thus far.

*Best of 2011 lists. Not just from me, as per usual (except for last year when I wanted to hermetically seal myself in Debauchery Central due to some retail trauma), but I reached out to some friends to give you a different perspective. 8BitChris, hopefully, will turn something in and if not I will walk across the hall at work and smack him in the face with a vaginal dilator. Oh, you best believe I'm planning on using a number 8! Soulless Brother #1, (cause he's a ginger, see) Black Nathan has tepidly committed to producing something as well. And I've also reached out to my good friend Mike Hilbig of the awesome Poppycock Press to contribute. Hopefully, he'll get out of the habit of doing real, serious, artistic and soul searching writing to come fuck around these parts.

*Inspired by hearing Skrillex for the first time (and probably the first time that twat-hat has inspired anything other than bilious shit/vomit) I will do a list compiling the worst albums I heard this year. Now, don't think I got all super duper music journo or anything. There was plenty of shit that I was aware of this year that made people's top 10 or 2,000 lists that I had absolutely no interest in listening to. This is more a compilation of the audio diarrhea unwillingly squirted through my ears by the now deceased corporate overlords at Borders. You will weep for me when you read what I was subjected to endure (and the Glee albums weren't even fucking close to the worst).

*A treatise on Kickstarter and how it seems to be a shit deal when it comes to music for the fans. This is inspired by a previously popular third wave ska band raising over $50K to record a new album. That is some straight up BULLSHIT, brothers and sisters.

*If Mrs. Debauchery signs off on it a patchwork of our honeymoon in New Orleans. Hopefully, Mr. and Mrs. GFN will be cool with being included.

*And speaking of the GFN, thoughts on the Down 'N' Dirties reunion and review of their set at Liberty Station before I got shithoused.

*Loads of praise for Heights Vinyl, the fucking coolest record store on the block!

*I don't know what's gonna happen this year but I'm predicting an epic rant on the asshole Santa's that fuck up the 30footFALL Xmas show every year. They can get hit by pick-up trucks leaving Jimmy's Place for all I care.

*And some other shit I'm sure I'll pull out of my ass in a drunken stupor when I get on a writing jag. Like, really, I thought about outlining my plan to pacify the GOP when it comes to gay rights and immigration. Long story short: Gay people marry illegal immigrants of the opposite sex. EVERYBODY WINS!

Thoughts on Finally not Having to Endure Xmas Music at Work

2011-12-12T15:05:00.013-06:00

As noted before, this is my first year out of retail in over four years. And aside from having to deal with constantly being berated for not having the popular book/cd/dvd that everyone else is fucking looking for, cleaning up after women who have shit on the bathroom floor (ya'll girls is nassay!) and, well, being in retail, the greatest joy I'm currently experiencing is being in a work environment that is absent Christmas music. Even when I was at Nundini, we'd have to listen to Sunny 99.1 and the same shitty assortment of 20 songs blase enough to pacify the general masses and believe me, there were times when I thought of Van Goghing myself with the meat slicer.

Many of the recurring criticisms I have regarding most pop music (bland, boring, safe, dumbed down, void of emotion, etc.) are exacerbated when the bands pump out tired covers of the same holiday standards. Most of the time, you can hear just how disinterested the band itself is in performing these generic tunes just to score some extra cash on the novelty of it all. OMG! Rascal Flats has THEIR own stamp on "Grandma Got Runover by a Reindeer!" TAKE ME TO THE NEAREST WAL-MART AT ONCE SO I MAY MARVEL OVER IT'S BRILLIANCE!

To be fair, not all Xmas music is total shit. The Pogues "Fairytale of New York" is one of their best songs. The Boys had tons of fun (under the moniker the Yobs) shitting on some, turning other holiday classics into pornographic, misogynistic piss-takes (that are pure aural joys. There's the Sonic's "I Don't Believe in Christmas" and A Christmas Gift for You from Phillie Records album to dig. Even this Punk Rock Advent Calendar is a bit of cheeky fun.

Bob Dylan came out with his take on the genre under the very apt argument that these songs were traditional standards that endure because of modern artists interpreting them in their own way. This doesn't mean they are always successful or even tolerable more than...10% of the time. There are very fucking few exceptions to the axiom that most Christmas music is shit so please allow me to share with you the worst I've ever had to endure.

She and Him - A Very She and Him Christmas

Once I heard about this album I was immediately glad that Borders went out of business because otherwise I was sure to have to listen to this garbage on loop for 8 hours a day. I'm sorry, I just don't get the appeal of Zooey Deschanel and M. Ward's dull as fuck music. Sure, she's got a nice voice but that doesn't mean the music is worth listening to. I avoided this thing like AIDS and had been safe until yesterday when Mrs. Debauchery dragged my ass to a Kirkland's and it almost put me to sleep standing. If anyone can explain to me why people give a shit what this lame hipster who is responsible for the word "adorkable" attempts to contribute to music, I will gladly pay your bar tab. You want GOOD modern versions of AM radio pop music? You had the Pipettes and now can bask in the glory of the Pepper Pots. Even the reverse gender roles on the ultimate holiday date rape anthem couldn't hold my interest.

Josh Groban - Noel

Like clockwork, every October we'd get another copy of this CD to stuff into the player and would be mandated by the corporate geniuses who engineered Borders swirl down the toilet to put this shit on blast for four fucking months. All the good will he got from the "I'm Fucking Ben Affleck" video and trying to hip his dinosaur audience to Nick Cave (he performed a pretty asstastic version of "Straight to You" on his last album. Yes, I hate myself for being aware of that) was gone once this turd landed in my ears. Look, I get that old white ladies need vocal stimuli to get their granny panties moist for their hordes of cats to chow down on but the American king of pop-era and his PBS shilled Christmas disc makes me pine for Sharon Stone in Basic Instinct to go to town on my balls like a goddamned block of ice. Plus, he looks like a mongoloid version of Bill Fool.

Straight No Chaser - Christmas Cheer

Ooof. This is almost the worst on the list (hint: our winner involves Jesus and fancy footwear!) and is another offering pimped out by PBS. Coupled with Josh Groban (yes, that 1-2 tandem of fucking suck happened in 2010!) this makes me want to vote Republican so they defund the pricks. A fellow mall employee came by to borrow some Xmas music and I gladly yanked this shit out of the stereo and quickly shoved her out the door. She came back 20 minutes later and politely thanked me for the offering when I could tell she wanted to break the disc over my head and open my veins with the shattered remnants of the CD. What you get here is some acapella bullshit that can only be erased from your memory with copious amounts of whiskey and Slayer. Look, I hate all the bullshit machismo built around beer commercials ("GRRRRR! IF YOU DRINK LIGHT BEER YER A FAG! RAWWR! MY PROTRUDING GUT IS A TESTAMENT TO THE LENGTH OF MY COCK!") but it's clear the only sexual activity these cats enjoy is the pre-show circle jerk while harmonizing. That's not me calling them gay. They're clearly acappella-sexual. If there were women in this group one of the guys would be flicking her jelly bean in the aforementioned pre-show activities. Sorry, no embed available for this one although that might be to your benefit. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7E-47VmFopE

Aretha Franklin - This Christmas

Don't get me wrong. I fucking love Aretha and I understand aging pop stars are wont to do lazy shit like this to supplement their income instead of actually producing new music (hey, didn't Al Green release a pretty decent album a couple of years ago?). But this song right here is just straight embarrassing. So, not only is nepotism on display but Eddie's little Mariah Carey moment followed by some terrible scat/rap combo...the Queen of Soul's word salad ramblings...This was a Borders exclusive and right around liquidation they shipped us a fuckton of the album to be priced at 99 cents. It took over three years and the company going out of business to unload this diaper stain of a Christmas album.

Newsong - The Christmas Shoes

Tim Tebow could release a Christmas song lamenting sheared foreskins and aborted fetuses and I would not be able to hate it as much as "The Christmas Shoes." I would rather have married a Juggalette or my nephew grow up to be the new Chris Martin than this song exist. And to throw some more salt in the wound the little shit in the video is wearing a Red Sox hat. Fuck atheism. I am SURE there is a God now who endeared his wretched minions with the dearth to create this song and for it to become a bonafide hit JUST TO TORTURE ME BECAUSE I AM HEATHEN SCUM. 8-Bit hadn't heard this travesty of an aural abortion until a few weeks ago and I envy him. I wish I didn't spend two Christmases with this Christian rock bullshit pulsating from the overhead speakers every half hour. I hope Christopher Hitchens survives his cancer treatment and can walk up to the singer of Newsong and put his foot squarely in that cunt's nutsack! I hope Richard Dawkins writes a treatise on this song more condescending than The God Delusion and reads it to these bastards, stopping to explain every obvious scientific theorem twenty times over. Hang on, I gotta do a shot.

/downs bottle of Jameson while receiving sympathetic looks from the dogs

So, if you want the quick version of why this song is so wretched (lyrically) then check out Patton Oswalt NUKING it here. Earlier, I brought up my general complaints regarding most pop music ((bland, boring, safe, dumbed down, void of emotion, etc.) and this song fits that perfectly. I feel that criticising the music on display is a moot point considering all the assholes that love this song focus more on the lyrics than music. How else could you explain the enduring popularity of Christian pop music? What fucking parent sends his son out to get a pair of motherfucking shoes before his wife/the kids mom croaks? And the protagonist outs himself as a gaping asshole for standing in line on December 24th to buy gifts for people he could give a FUCK about. If my hardcore Baptist grandmother who is about to be put in hospice care heard this load of crap she'd have the same objections her beloved atheist grandson does: it's antithetical to the tenets of Christianity, it's a bunch of Joel Osteen buy your way into heaven propagated bunk, it's a shitty song that shouldn't be excused because it makes Glenn Beck's dick hard (okay, that last part might not be true)!

Because Jesus didn't believe in sharing I can't embed this here. Troll in the comments random people who were misguided to my blog by google.

http://youtu.be/GJcPVB-we7g

I leave you with this, my final argument on Christmas music as contradictory as it is. A lame song I enjoy due to its timeliness and stance against the general public mood.

Some Thoughts on Black Friday

2011-11-28T10:52:00.004-06:00

For the first time in over 4 years I did not have to work Black Friday in retail. I'm really glad about that because this year, it seems, released the most batshit insane, caustic and totally irrational fucktard shoppers upon constantly berated retail workers. Yes, I'm still bitter about my experiences in retail but at least I worked in a store that didn't feature door buster deals and swarms of mouth-breathing "bargain hunters" who seem to value slightly marked down electronics over being decent human beings.

To be fair, this year we didn't have an employee trampled to death but there was still plenty of disgusting behavior on display to leave me thanking my lucky fucking stars that I was out of that game. The worst incident reported (aside from the usual parking lot robberies) was obviously the wretched cunt who pepper sprayed a crowd of people at a California Wal-Mart just to get at some goddamned discounted video games. When I read that from the comfort of my desk at work I instantly wished that she was either robbed in the parking lot for all her shit or when eventually identified smacked with an assault charge for every customer who got hit with the spray (you might think I'm being a little extreme here but if you haven't been hit with mace before than you don't know just how agonizing it is). Nope, she got to make her purchases and leave without being caught. Sure, she turned herself in (almost 24 hours after the incident and probably because she figured it would lessen her punishment when her identity was eventually discovered) but that doesn't mitigate the fact that she decided the best way to get a "competitive shopping advantage" was to douse a crowd with a chemical weapon. Even more troubling about that was that she had her fucking kids with her! What a great example to set there, mom.

Of course, we shouldn't forget that a shopper died in a Target and was casually stepped over by the throngs of price conscious jackals. That's not as shocking to me as the pepper spray incident because after going through a liquidation you would not believe how narcissistic, entitled and inhumane these types of people can be. I had plenty of customers who were unable (or unwilling?) to read the fine print on going out of business deals and instantly lay into my poor co-workers when they pointed out the actual discount. Like, shouting at the top of their lungs, telling us to enjoy our unemployment, cursing, expressing joy in everyone losing their jobs...just truly awful examples of humanity. After experiencing all that and more I totally believe and I guess expect Black Friday shoppers to view the corpse of a man in the middle of a big box store only to shrug and head straight for the 550 inch plasma HD-TV without a second thought.

Bill Hicks once said on the subject of humanity that "We're a virus with shoes" and viewing our shopping behavior during Black Friday seems to confirm that assessment. So, allow me to rant about the bevy of assholes that make Black Friday one of the most embarrassing annual displays of greed that could only happen in America.

First off, you're an asshole if you go shopping on Black Friday. Hey, don't get mad. I just called a few of my friends, relatives and co-workers assholes, so please don't take that statement of fact personally. Retail is soul crushing, often thankless and just brutal fucking work. The holidays bring extra dread to everyone punching that clock. You swarming malls and stores like ravenous zombies all at once just makes everything worse for the workers. We all know we get less patient when amongst crowds and combine that with the hyper-competitive deal hunting that is encouraged via less than stellar sales and you get total fucking chaos.

Look at this video of people tearing into a fucking pallet of memory cards and cameras. Listen to the people blame the store (they're sort of right, more on how the stores fuck you and the employees over in a bit) and constantly push and shove to get just an inch closer during what must have been an unbearable four minute wait to get some shitty merchandise. A coworker who ventured out to a Wal-Mart said people were sneaking up to the pallets that had been dragged out and cutting them open early creating complete bedlam in the store. Considering that, I'm in total shock that somebody didn't get stabbed during Black Friday. And, of course, the customers take out all their frustrations at missing out on the ten video game bundles 2,000 other people wanted on the employees. Like it's their fault you missed out on a doorbuster deal.

But beyond the fact that Black Friday shoppers are in general all assholes we have to add special consideration for the ignorant fucktasters who bring their kids with them on these exciting turkey hangover excursions. We've already addressed the huge gash who pepper sprayed people with her future sociopaths in tow but what about the rest of these morons?

Every year it is well documented how violent, aggressive and uncaring the crowds are so why on Earth would you think it is acceptable to expose your children to this shit? There was a grandfather who got his face slammed into the ground trying to protect the kid from the crowds. In Houston, a two year old kid was apparently punched in the face by some shopaholic cunt. You'd think parents would leave their kids out of this wasteland of humanity.

The retailers are also to blame for how fucked up this society has become in regards to Black Friday but not for the reasons you might think. The day after Thanksgiving is the biggest shopping day of the year in America and knowing that people would be willing to buy a bag of dogshit at a .0001% discount just because it was available (or someone else was moving towards it) motivates the retail industry to offer marginal discounts on already jacked up merchandise in hopes of herding the sheep into their stores. They just tend to up the competitive spirit of the day but advertising 10 motherfucking TV's that 2,000 will show up to fight for knowing that they'll stick around and buy at least something not marked down.

And look at how Wal-Mart, the greatest criminal in this whole fiasco handled their stores. They trucked out wrapped pallets of highly coveted merchandise and dropped it on the floor expecting the early shoppers to patiently wait. What fucking planet are the upper management goons who came up with this game plan living on? Isn't it obvious that if you put something out on the sales floor it should be immediately available to the customers or else you end up creating a mob mentality? Fuck this entire day and everything it represents.

Let's face it, this country is pretty fucked right now. Even menial retail jobs are becoming harder to lock down and when we choose to force ourselves upon people who would rather be chilling with their families so that their mega-corps can gain a competitive advantage over a rival we're essentially encouraging them to keep cutting back basic perks while never upping salaries or the payroll hours expended. Wal-Mart, Target et. all will still reap huge rewards from this ludicrous group think that the best deals will ONLY be featured on Black Friday. So, as a former retail worker with many friends still toiling in its minefield, I plead with you to just stay the fuck home next Black Friday. Or shop Amazon. Because after the biggest Black Friday ever it seems pretty goddamned clear that you fucking jackals aren't going to stop acting like decent human beings anytime soon especially when that cuntrag with the pepper spray was excused for acting in self defense.

Someone Get Me Some Acid So I Can Enjoy the New Thee Oh Sees Record Properly

2011-11-21T19:39:00.003-06:00

This band can do no wrong.

BENEFIT FOR JASMINE BARELA

2011-11-21T18:57:00.005-06:00

Let's skip the intro and bullshit and get right down to it: this woman is awesome and she needs some help. I hope the few readers of this blog can get down with that. For the details, I pass it on to Mrs. Carmen Reddy:

AS MANY OF YOU ALREADY KNOW, OUR FRIEND JASMINE WAS HIT WHILE RIDING HER BYCYCLE DOWNTOWN ON THE NIGHT OF OCTOBER 20th. SHE IS WHEELCHAIR BOUND DUE TO MULTIPLE PELVIC FRACTURES AND A FRACTURED COLLAR BONE. SHE WILL ALSO NEED TO UNDERGO A SERIES OF ORAL RECONSTRUCTIVE SURGERIES. SHE WILL NOT BE ABLE TO WORK FOR THE NEXT SEVERAL MONTHS AND NEEDS ALL THE HELP WE CAN OFFER. SO PLEASE COME OUT AND SHOW YOUR SUPPORT SATURDAY, DECEMBER 3RD.. THERE WILL BE LIVE MUSIC, TASTY FOOD & BAKESALE, BARTAB BINGO, A SILENT AUCTION AND A CASH RAFFLE.

Carmen was able to get some awesome bands together and it should turn out to be a pretty righteous show. Add to that you've got the first Down 'N' Dirties show in 3 years! All you kids who are hip to Chris Gray and his love of the Hell City Kings better show up and check that shit out. My thanks goes out to everyone who pitched in and donated to aid Jasmine in her time of need. If you can't attend and want to send something over the internet message me and I will pass your info along to Mrs. Reddy.

Wedding DJ's are the Scum of the Earth: An Essay of Rage, Disappointment, and Pure Hatred

2011-11-06T18:07:00.004-06:00

So, I got married last night. That was awesome. And from the outset Mrs. Debauchery said that the music duties would be handled by me and I was to fuck off from anything else involving the wedding (when her dietary issues came up along with the flux of vegetarian guests, I had to step up with the menu). I worked my ass off on making something that would work for all of our guests. And boy do they enjoy different music.

At a shower thrown by her aunt and uncle, we were subjected to Journey, Styx and all sorts of other horribleness that I've drank out of my memory. I was given specific requests that I felt I met very well. In addition, many of my friends insisted I not play too much punk or rowdy rock 'n' roll and include some soul and R & B. This was planned from the beginning along with country and rockabilly. I came up with 200 songs I was stoked for and was told by Mrs. Debauchery to narrow it down to 50 and for the last 3 days before the wedding, I tweaked the list and was very happy with the outcome. Would the guests at our wedding? We never got to find that out.

You see, the fuckhead DJ's took it upon themselves to decide what was best for our wedding and because of that, I hope they burn in Rock 'N' Roll Hell, listening to nothing but Lil' John, Nelly and the Black Eyed Peas. All of that horrible shit they inflicted upon my wedding guests.

Let's forget about them fucking up our exit from the ceremony and go ahead to the introduction of the parties. See, my groomsmen were supposed to be introduced to Turbonegro's "Get It On" which was super tits of Mrs. Debauchery to allow. Well, at the last minute the dipshits in charge of our wedding decided the parties should be combined and go in together. Knowing the bridesmaids would not enjoy walking into a reception to Death Punk, I told the fucktards at the DJ booth to just pick something random and to still play the entrance music for me and my bride. When the moment of truth came...no music. So my boys and girls get lead in with no introduction to a crowd that doesn't realize they need to focus on them. A total clusterfuck. Mrs. Debauchery is pissed but I try to assure her us walking into Joey Ramone covering "What a Wonderful World" will rule and make everyone forget that bullshit and when the doors were flung upon...silence. These asshats just had to hit fucking play on a goddamn iPod and they fucked that up.

So, we walk in and all of a sudden the butt dumplings behind the DJ booth are fumbling around with my iPod and I figure, "Oh! Awesome. I'm about to hear the 'Mats and then the Undertones!" Yeah, instead, it was our first dance song. NO ONE told us that shit was going to happen. And then there was a shitload of Sinatra, which, I dig, BUT when those shitbirds played "New York, New York" I almost lost it (ya know, the whole Red Sox thing).

I stayed outside, chain smoking, until I finally heard a guitar that signified that the Runaways were on which meant my iPod had been activated. I rush inside and am confronted with the crushing reality of the Black Eyed Peas being played until Mrs. Debauchery rushed over and told them to cut that song off. This, is why we're married.

As many times as I tried to remind the pair of genital wart infested nutsacks that they needed to bounce back between my iPod and Mrs. Debauchery's list, I was constantly ignored. Instead of hearing Cheap Trick or Jerry Lee Lewis or Buddy Holly, we were subjected to a song about jizzing in chicks faces. Great, assholes. I saw you looking at my playlist with confusion but could you not just do your fucking jobs and just press play on the motherfucking iPod? Not only were our guests turned off by their musical choices, my mom begrudged the lack of Ramones and punk rock at my wedding. Mrs. Debauchery should've let me play some Turquoise Jeep if that's the hip-hop she wanted. At least it would've been listenable. I'm not even getting into the rancid modern country slop they spread across my ears.

Eventually, after the fifth fucking time I told them to play my wedding list they actually did! For ten minutes! When pressed, the DJ's said they were trying to keep the dance-floor filled and that they didn't think my music choices were conducive to a proper wedding reception. Oh really, dick for brains? How do you know what my guests will enjoy? I mean, I'm the one that knows them and their tastes not you! How do you know they aren't all hardcore Baptists who came from a town where a car full of teenagers died in a wreck on their way home from dancing? What if they had Parkinson's and didn't want to risk a fit on floor? Or maybe, just maybe, there are people who attend weddings who could give a fuck less about dancing. Y'know, enjoy meeting family, seeing old friends, hitting the bar and all that jazz. These DJ's were so full of shit that my friend, Rebecca went up and laid into them and said, "Can I get your information so I don't book you for my wedding?"

Bottom line is, wedding DJ's, assholes that you are: Your one job was to hit fucking play on my iPod. That's easy money. You were able to somewhat accommodate my bride but You don't have to think about what the guests want to hear because the people paying you could not care less about it. You are mere monkeys that only had to hit play. You proved yourselves incapable of performing that meager task when you skipped ahead midway through "Tessie" and then backtracked and started it over. What that says to me is that you don't know how to work an iPod. The fuck, guys? That is your chosen profession and you suck at that in such epic amounts it can't be fully understood by the public in this mere blog rant.

But the main reason I was so pissed about the DJ fuck ups wasn't because I didn't look cool because the music was lame. No, it's that I picked a very specific set of songs that I have strong personal attachments to in regards to my wife and friends. I didn't just throw shit onto a playlist to make me look like the god of music and I didn't flippantly ignore the fact that my musical tastes are way off base from most of the people at my wedding. I worked hard to create that balance and some cheesy asshat motherfuckin' cocksuckers who thought it'd be cute to have the theme from Rocky (I am not joking) playing while I removed my wife's garter (I would've chosen Joan Jett's "Do You Wanna Touch Me") didn't let my guests be the final judge. If people had streamlined up to the DJ booth to complain I would have understood that and dealt with it but instead they filed out the fucking door.

And the worst part was after I finally got them to play "The Body of an American" they got on board and played songs by bands who were actually on my playlist! I told them that and they just gave me blank looks. And no one bitched for the rest of the night. Kudos for vindicating me you pair of felch fiends and you and your ilk can all eat a bowl of fuck!

Here is the wedding playlist as it was intended. You can tell me if it would have ruined the evening or upset the vacant dance floor (save for the bridesmaids):

The Replacements - Can't Hardly Wait

The Undertones - Teenage Kicks

Small Faces - Sha-La-La-La-Lee

New York Dolls - Looking for a Kiss

The Ramones - She's the One

Nobunny - I am a Girlfriend

The Runaways - You Drive Me Wild

Sweet - Wig Wam Bam

Big Star - When My Baby's Beside Me

Alice Cooper - Be My Lover

Cheap Trick - Southern Girls

Jerry Lee Lewis - Lovin' Up a Storm

Buddy Holly - Rave On

The Cramps - Trapped Love

The Pogues - The Body of an American

Dropkick Murphys - Tessie

The Clash - Train in Vain (Stand by Me)

King Khan and the Shrines - Burnin' Inside

Johnny Thunders and the Heartbreakers - I Love You

The Devil Dogs - I'm Gonna Make You Mine

The Beach Boys - God Only Knows (1967 Rehearsal)

Sam Cooke - (What a) Wonderful World

Jimmy Cliff - Come Into My Life

Al Green - You Ought to be with Me

Sharon Jones and the Dap-Kings - I'll Still Be True

King Khan and the Shrines - Welfare Bread

Black Keys - Your Touch

The Pixies - Gigantic

The Action - She's Got My Heart

The Only Ones - Another Girl, Another Planet

Exploding Hearts - I'm a Pretender

Damone - On My Mind

The Wildhearts - Someone That Won't Let Me Go

The Muffs - A Little Luxury

The Queers - I Always Knew

The Unlovables - Doot Da Doot

Jawbreaker - Into You Like a Train

Generation X - Kiss Me Deadly

Davila 666 - Yo Seira Otro

Mark Sultan - Sweeter Than Wine

Buddy Holly - You've Got Love

Patsy Cline - You Belong to Me

Old 97's - You Belong to My Heart

T. Rex - Ballroom of Mars

The National - Bloodbuzz Ohio

The Phaetons - I Love My Baby

The Sonics - Do You Love Me

The Jam - Non Stop Dancing

Electric Six - Danger! High Voltage

Blondie - Atomic

A Quick Thought on My Upcoming Wedding

2011-10-31T17:40:00.006-05:00

Saturday, I will be marrying the love of my life, the soon to be Mrs. Debauchery. I couldn't be happier about this. As I continue to construct the playlist for the wedding (one which I know will get truncated at some point, we've agreed to split our iPods and I'm doing my best to be accommodating to people who want to hear Pat Benatar and modern country) I keep getting dragged back into songs that I flippantly thought would be cool to put on a wedding playlist (The 'Mats, "Can't Hardly Wait," the Jive Five's "Do You Hear Wedding Bells?" The Scientists "Why Don't We Get Together Tonight") I realized that most of what I picked were the songs I first played over and over in my old study, getting ripped off whiskey every night after hauling my ass home from the book store in defeated agony, in the bouts between her visits to my house or just a quick drink together (Mrs. Debauchery worked day and night jobs at this point). Listening to those tunes while thinking of her made my life a ton more enjoyable (whiskey didn't hurt either, just saying).

However, there were some songs that we both really enjoy that she made me promise not to include on the final list (The Cramps "Like a Bad Girl Should" being the biggest red flag along with the Supersuckers "She's My Bitch"). I'm cool with this. But, there is one song that is not getting left off despite it's S&M themes: Nobunny's "I am a Girlfriend."

See, Nobunny and the Spits were the first show we went to together, ( I DJ'd!) and Mrs. Debauchery really dug Nobunny and has since discovered the joys of the Okmoniks, the Sneaky Pinks and Hunx and his Punx first album. We kinda consider it "our" song since it's the first band I got her to dig and we'd blast the record across the house while dancing with GRRR (our dog) and it made our worlds seem to collide in a really sweet way. My unabashed love of raw and dirty punk rock combining with her love of catchy hooks and vocals she could understand. We're a weird pair. I'm marrying a woman who likes Taylor Swift (or Tay-Tay, as she, for some reason I don't want to know calls her), fell in love with Good Clean Fun when she first heard them and had a fucking blast watching Guitar Wolf at the Free Press Summer Fest. Yet, I can't get her to listen to a Ty Segall record without her twitching two seconds into it.

And I couldn't be any fucking happier about it.

So, here's Nobunny performing "our song" at Rudz in May of 2010.

From my previous life as a bookseller

2011-10-08T13:29:00.001-05:00

Bored one day, and just before the liquidation shit would hit the fan, a few co-workers and I came up with this lovely display. Sadly, people actually bought the books merched here. Still, I think a nice point was made.

Can We Please Quit Getting Cute with Metal?

2011-10-04T17:39:00.003-05:00

Are you ready to have your mind blown? Not over what about you are going to listen to if you click the link below but that a group apparent music enthusiasts thought this would be a good fucking idea. Get ready for, a capella metal.

Did any of that make fucking sense to you? Me, neither. It's like Rockapella's kids grew up to realize what huge tools their fathers were and decided to bail to Europe and get metal. Except, they realized the only talent they had were for making kazoo sounds, the baritone growl of that annoying Crazy Frog fad and for making "eeeevil" and "scaaaary" faces at the camera. So, they hooked up with a goth chick and what has to be the most desperate drummer to be in a band ever and here we are.

Alright, let's break this bitch down.

0:03: Okay, if I'm watching some dude ride in on a horse it better be Game of Thrones and some motherfuckers better about to be annihilated in the goriest fashion possible.

0:05: What the fuck was that? We just jump right into the whole D&D metal theme? Here's a quick tip, Van Canto, Dragonforce are only cool for doing that shit because THEY FUCKING SHRED! Can your a capella scale solos compete with that? Let's see.

0:07: And we meet the band which seems to comprised of non-unibrow Eli Roth, a chick who wasn't fat enough to the be to Gothpera singer in Cradle of Filth, an odd Rob Halford/Anton Lavey mixture (metal points for that) and Shawn Michaels. Fucking fantastic. Let's rock this joint!

0:10: /smacks drummer over the nose with a rolled up newspaper.

NO! NO! Bad drummer! First of all, put those sticks down asshat, this ain't rockin' and second you are enabling the suck. I'm pretty sure without your presence they would've never attempted this shit Big Black style. Hopefully, you make them your kit bitch and never have to move, set up or breakdown a thing.

0:24: Ah, so we're gonna hear this chick wail a little bit. Awesome, this song could really use some more filler. In fact, I thought it was over before the...verse? Whatever ever the fuck this is that's going on now.

0:52: So, is she like telling him you can wreck this body if you find the One Ring or something? Just a vibe I'm getting.

0:54: That medieval middle school kid is like, "Fuck that noise!" You see that look in his eyes? That means tits or GTFO, lady! But, he's got no other choice, right?

1:04: Or does he? Look at him cop a feel of that statue? Okay, so pseudo date rape is what's setting the narrative to this video in motion. Whatever.

1:07: Every time they do the "dumdumdumdumdumdumdumdum" thing it makes wish that I was watching a metal version of South Park's "All About Mormons." I can't be alone in that.

1:40: Quit cutting to Shawn Michaels. I think this video might be like the one from Ringu and he's gonna pull a Sadako and come through the screen to rape me. Actually, I am so afraid of this being true it's the reason I got you to watch the video in the first place. Suckers!

2:04: YEEEESSS! Lavey/Halford! Have the kid burn the cross! Let's get METAAAAAL! Wait, why the fuck is he walking away from it? Okay, okay, I forgive you for not making it upside down. Just send him back there with a book of matches and a gas can!

2:18: Put your horns down, twat muffin. Going "ringdigityringdigityringdigityring" does not mean you are rocking a goddamned thing.

2:27: Aaaaaaand here we come to the solo. It's like 30 tracks of kindergarten kazoo playing layered on top of each other. Blink 182 called and said Van Canto uses way too many tracks.

2:30: See homechick finger pointing the guy while he is making the international hand gesture for jerking off? This is the reason Metalocalypse was created.

2:42: I'd never thought I would say this but this song really drags without the girl singing. Or is it that I glean faint entertainment from average cleavage being shamelessly sold?

2:45: HOLY FUCK! THE ELI ROTH DOUCHE JUST PLAYED AIR GUITAR TO HIS OWN BAND THAT FEATURES NO GUITAR!

2:50: It's your last test, my son. Run through the fiery vagina and you will reborn being able to proclaim stake to the chick you molested earlier in the video. It is your birthright!

3:06: Yeah, I know he's not drumming that fast but because in in THIS band...he's totally using a trigger.

3:20: Halford/Lavey just smiled. There go your metal points, bro.

3:35: Holy shit, are we really doing the whole kazoo solo thing again? Didn't it suck enough the first time?

3:38: Apparently not! They had to double down with the Thin Lizy style dual kazoo solo! It'll melt yo face off!

4:00: See how she said, "In me the wishmaster?" Totally called that she wanted to bang Young Ned of the Shire.

4:14: TOTAL VINDICATION! See, he totally grabbed her tit. And made the rest of the band go away! Unfortunately we still have a few more seconds with this song.

3:00: Nevermind. It drags just the same. Even when you factor in the cleavage.

Jay Debauchery Vs. KISS @ the Rodeo

2011-05-08T18:56:00.001-05:00

When it was announced that KISS would be playing the Houston Livestock Show and Rodeo this year, I knew I had to go. Not because it’s fantastic seeing KISS or anything but because that band is so goddamned ridiculous that combining their gaudy live show with the atmosphere of yuppies and shitkickers at the rodeo was sure to yield entertaining results. When we first arrived I was excited to partake in one of my favorite rodeo pastimes (I bartend at a booth during the cook-off and these are often the only way to make the experience bearable beyond chugging whiskey): the mullet count. Sadly and shockingly, there was a severe lack of white trash aesthetic on the grounds. I expected wispy moustaches, loads of “Hot in the Shade” tour shirts with the sleeves ripped off, dressed up by a ratty denim vest littered with W.A.S.P. and Dokken patches whose wearers would be two fisting cans of Red Dog, the party-ends of their tragicomic coif’s flowing majestically in the gentle breeze. Honestly, I can’t remember when I’ve been to the rodeo and haven’t seen a vast array of ape drapes. Instead, it was aging rocker dads with their (mostly) male progeny in tow eager to experience “the hottest band in the world” together in a completely absurd setting. Who really would’ve expected to watch bull riding, barrel races and 6 year olds in full hockey gear strapped to mutton as a lead-in to two geriatric rock stars and their hired goons in face paint singing about their cocks? The crowd was really apathetic leading up to the lights going down. Everyone was downing $6 beers and liquor but no one seemed excited about the band. It was just like they were staying to watch KISS as a time killer before hitting the carnival. KISS has a ravenous fan base (how else can you explain their endurance or the fact that Chaim Witz has had a reality show running for over 5 fucking years) and they’re often loud and rowdy but once the lights finally dimmed there was only a dull roar of applause from the over 72,000 in attendance. The jumbotrons, hung high above the revolving stage, lit up with the visages of the “four ugliest Jewish women in the world” as they were loaded into their golf carts (Eric Singer and Paul Stanley had to share one) before being shuttled out to the stage. Manager Doc McGee mugged for the cameras as he shook every member’s hand before a roadie made the traditional proclamation, “YOU WANTED THE BEST? YOU GOT THE BEST: THE HOTTEST BAND IN THE WORLD…KISSSSSSSS!” Explosions ensued around the stage and people were jazzed but I sat puzzled as to why I didn’t hear the intro to “Detroit Rock City” instead of something off the group’s 2009 album, Sonic Boom (I had to look that one up as I’m sure anyone else who’s not a KISS die-hard did). When the group walked out I was fucking certain Paul Stanley was wearing a spanx. His hairy bitch tits juggled beneath his super tight leather vest as he swaggered around the stage with his guitar between his legs when the cameras focused on him. Gene Simmons did his usual tongue wagging, strutting with the menacing glare that is his “Demon” persona, but it felt odd considering that these are tactics they use to engage and excite the crowd. Unfortunately, the majority of the crowd was 2,000 fucking feet away. There was a small contingent of fans who had seating on the grounds (still 1,999 thousand feet away from the stage), roped off with lawn chairs in tow. The funniest thing about this wasn’t imagining how much these people paid for their “privileged” seats but when an over-eager couple knocked others out of the way and ended up eating shit, face down in the dirt. Plus, if you can’t see the jumbotrons then you can’t see the band unless you’ve invested in C.I.A. grade binoculars or can crane you’re neck to a position only comparable to being in the front row at a laser Floyd show. Once the band segued into “Shout It Out Loud,” people started getting on their feet and my companions pointed out a guy one section over with seething, bulging neck veins freaking out like it was the second coming of Jeebus. This was the spectacle I had expected to see. Drunken fools slavishly lapping up whatever auI have to admit I enjoyed “Deuce” but once that was over Paul started in with the crowd fellating and it has never seemed more comical. With his strained, howling shriek that is somewhere between Dr. Rockso and that cuntrag from the Darkness and William Shatner he’d shout gems like, “HEEEEW-STUNNNN! YOU GOT SOME FINE LOOKUN’ WUMUN HEYARE! WE KNOW WHERE WE’RE AYAT. WHEN WE GET OFF THE PLAYANE!” Once again, another dull roar from the crowd. Stanley would further go on to embarrass himself (and insult his fans if you think about it) by asking if they remembered “THEEEYAS ONE!” before humming the choruses of their lamentable disco hit “I Was Made for Loving You” and “Lick it Up” amongst other tunes. Of course, “Calling Dr. Love” popped up on the set list (hey, they’ve got a contract with Dr. Pepper and that new cherry flavor ain’t selling itself), not-Peter Criss sang “Beth” to some boos from the KISS Army and for the latter part of their set Simmons and Stanley seemed to be engaging in a mugging contest for the roving cameras with Stanley’s flirtatious kisses and guitar pick spitting (into a crowd of no one) ultimately winning out. This all culminated in the height of absurdity when Stanley paraded two military veterans onto the stage, announcing they would be donating money from the show to the Wounded Warrior project and then demanding that the crowd, well, I’ll write it in Starchild speak: “PUT YO-AH RIGHT HAYAND OVAH YO-AH HART. AND REPEEEEEAT AFTA ME!” before launching into the Pledge of Allegiance. I shit you not, this happened. The crowd went fucking insane for this cheap stunt (has KISS ever delved into politics with heart and passion?) and leapt to their feet to join in, almost drowning out Stanley. I can’t remember a crowd at the HLSR this excited since the year they dropped Lee “I’m Proud to be an American” Greenwood down from the rafters every night. I’m not ragging on the crowd for being patriotic but from other concertgoers I spoke to (who traveled from out of the country) they felt that the band was pandering to the rodeo crowd and I have to agree. Still, it was the most excitement I would see from the crowd before they closed out with “Rock and Roll All Nite,” and the aging rockers would gloriously relive their senior year party at the Moon Tower. Yes, this wasn’t a typical KISS show. There was little fire-breathing, Gene didn’t spit blood and Fake Ace’s guitar didn’t spew smoke from its pick-ups when they eventually played “Detroit Rock City,” but it sure proved to be an amusing clusterfuck of rock ‘n’ roll excess in the worst possible way. Some bands just need to die and with this latest stunt KISS has moved ahead of the Rolling Stones to top that list.

REVIEW: Commie Hilfiger - My Car Keeps Stalin

2011-01-22T16:19:00.003-06:00

Being a novelty band is a tough gig to pull off. You can be, I don't know, like GWAR, and have a fun live show but if your records ultimately suck then why should anyone bother with your BAND? This is where Commie Hilfiger (originally Commie Hilfiger and NAACCCP) succeeds because their songs are catchy as all fuck and it's something you actually wanna jam after the show. Sure, it's great to see five dudes in Cuban/Russian fatigues wave glow sticks around half-way through the set but it's a testament to their songwriting that everything they wedge in between the comedy and schtick gets stuck in your head. Check out the dance of the revolution:

My Car Keeps Stalin (see what they did there?) is four songs of fun mid-90's snarky, tongue-in-cheek pop-punk with a serious rock 'n' roll tilt that proudly strattles the line between clever and stupid hoisting a fifth of vodka while raising a middle finger high up in the air. Featuring veterans of several revered Houston bands (LDV, Hell City Kings, The Contingency, Smokeaters) these cats don't mess around and get right to it on the disc. "Manifesto" sets the EP off right with a pseudo-serious castigation of the American spendthrift culture with a final proclamation that our comrades will "Take to the golden arches/ [And] burn them down with our torches/ the rising revolution marches on!" The title track is a glorious fuck you to the calamity that was the YUGO (members Jay Guevera and Yuri Nation proudly own one). "Cuban Missile Crisis" brings the blasphemy (against the bands comedic ethos) as it paints Castro as a closeted cross-dresser but the real standout on the EP is "It's Time." This is Commie Hilfiger at it's best; a great punk rock sing-a-long built around the common theme of hating your job only to twist the lyrics into a call for the Communist revolution that is so base any 18 year old kid taking his first Philosophy class would quickly accept it as his black-masked mantra for anarchy. That ain't a slag, brothers and sisters. Commie Hilfiger is a solid band that knows their novelty and nurtures it well. So raise your fists and support these fine proletariat Proust's until they inevitably become American pig-dog capitalists (merchandising will out) and we can reject them as the faux-revolutionaries they readily presented themselves to be.

WATCH! Ned Beatty's Progeny Practice His Rape Squeal!

2010-09-24T17:54:00.005-05:00

We'll be back shortly.

And Here is My Introduction to the World of Podcasts

2010-07-25T23:20:00.003-05:00

A couple of weeks ago I met up with Black Nathan and Tyson to record a podcast that I'm told has something to do 1560 the Game. A few highlights to entice you to listen:
* I deconstruct the bullshit Glee usage of songs. You know, their total disregard for the ACTUAL meaning of the songs in favor of dramatic bullshit?
* Nathan rags on my previous journalism.
* I, once more, lament about how much it sucks to work in a bookstore.
* Tim Tebow's appearance at the ESPY's leads us all into a rant about religion in sports.
* Mel Gibson.

And so much more!
Hopefully, Tyson will bring me back for more cursing and chaos so until then, enjoy!

http://p1podcastpalooza.podbean.com/2010/07/25/please-kill-yourselfafter-you-listen/

Man, I Should've Vacationed Here

2010-07-23T18:34:00.005-05:00

Yeah, that's the Hoff's party bus. Go ahead give me one good reason why being on that mobile raunch machine would suck? Can you imagine how much booze, Wendy's Baconaters and Kraut-tang (or Sauer-gash) are loaded onto that motherfucker?

Internet, Meet Giampaolo Nundini

2010-07-20T15:06:00.005-05:00

For a few years now, Sneaky Pete and I have threatened to unleash the awesomeness that is Giampaolo to these interwebs. Pete still works for this magnanimous and uncouth bastard and I did too for a little bit and these videos are posted to share our joys (and occasional horrors) of working for a bat-shit crazy, foul-mouthed, good-hearted and easily loveable Italian who dubs himself, The Godfather of Food. Expect more in the future.

Terrorists, Please Aim at Cave Rock, Illinois

2010-07-18T15:22:00.005-05:00

ICP is a band that for some reason has a ravenous fanbase that laps up whatever shit sandwich they're served. These troglodytes (the Houston chapter has left death threats on my phone over an article I wrote in the Daily Cougar years ago ragging on them), who are known as Juggalos, celebrate their collective stupidity, inbreeding and lack of shame with an annual festival called The Gathering of the Juggalos. You might think it's odd that white trash horrorcore-rap enthusiasts would cop a term from hippies for their event but keep in mind these people make the hygene, appearance and overall IQ at a Phish concert seem like a party in a fucking Jane Austen novel.
The internet has had scores of fun with the grease-paint kids over the video for their idols Jeebus-centric and impressively moronic "Miracles" (which, actually confirms EVERYTHING Christopher Hitchens and Richard Dawkins have written about Christians) and last years viral promotion for the aforementioned gathering and now it's time to do it all over again.

While promoting their latest album, Devo said that their music was a response to witnessing the devolution of society and after watching that fucking 18 minute trailer can you believe that over two decades later we're still getting dumber as a populace?
I mean, who in their right fucking mind associates Gallagher with comedy? Or would pay him money to smash watermelons? Coolio, the "Because I got High" dude (well, that makes sense considering that is how most of the Juggalos were skeeted into existence) ? AHAHAHAHAHA TONE LOC! And motherfucking Vanilla Ice? That dude still gets booked to perform a yo-core version of "Ice, Ice, Baby?" Oh shit, Ron Jeremy is gonna be there too!!! OOOOH! Maybe they'll duke it out over the Hedgehog stabbing Rob Van Winkle in the back on the Surreal Life. /fart noise
I called Black Nathan up after subjecting my glazzies to this shit and told him that there were actually a few bands booked that were good. I doubt anyone dumb enough to devote themselves to the Insane Clown Posse (reread that sentence and let that sink in for a bit)would be stoked on seeing Rob Base, Above the Law, Slick Rick or members of the Wu-Tang Clan. Yup, Method Man and Redman are performing and that does sadden me. That's fucking Cheese from the Wire. Does he really need the cash that bad to subject himself to this fucking asstastic excuse for a festival? You're off the team, homie. Rza, man, you know what you gotta do. Wu-Tang is for the children and you'd be failing them if you didn't recreate this:

Al Qaeda, Hezbollah, Ahmadinejad, L. Ron Hubbard, please aim your nukes at these fucking dolts. Or, airdrop more condoms than South Africa handed out for the World Cup.

We're Back

2010-07-16T01:35:00.002-05:00

Expect some new posts soon and a link to myself talking mad shit on a Podcast. But, since I'm going on vacation and am about to walk out on my job (hopefully getting another doing something I'm stoked on), I've got plenty of ranting to do. An aside, fucking die Ryan Murphy. So, hang tight. The Jihad continues shortly.

On Constantly Dealing with Mouth Breathers, Part One

2010-02-19T22:15:00.004-06:00

Working in a bookstore can be an odd gig because you get a steady stream of people who are looking for something to recieve information from yet don't seem to be capable of tying their own shoes or wiping their ass properly (I clean the bathrooms. This is a fair fucking assessment). The most constant request the staff recieve goes something like this. Customer: Hi, I'm looking for a book. Me: Sure, which one? Customer: Here's the thing. I don't know the title, I don't know the author but I know it has a blue cover! Well, why the fuck didn't you say so?!?! Let me take you right where we put ALL the blue books! Shit no, we don't organize these alphabetically by something as random as the author! We color cordinate these bitches so your mongoloid ass can find the 48 Laws of Power without having to exert the precious mental capabilities you barely possess to comprehend the simplistic bullshit Robert Greene is throwing at you. Me: Uh, I'm gonna need a little more information like, maybe, could you tell me what it's about. Customer: I don't know except I think I saw it on TV but it's definitely blue. Me: Sorry, without information beyond the color of the cover I can't help you find that book. Customer: Really? YES! YES, YOU FUCKING MORON! I CAN'T JUST PULL BLUE BOOKS OUTTA MY ASS AS OFTEN AS I HAVE PRAYED FOR THE ABILITY. So, I go through that about 50 times a day but it's the phone customers that really take the cake in their idiocy. Yesterday, after fielding inquiries from dolt after dolt I got two phone calls that made my right palm kiss my forehead. Here we go.

The I'm in Desperate Need of Help Scoring Gash but I'm too Embarassed to come in pick up The Game Asshole

Me: Generic Tomes in the Galleria how can I help you?

Customer: Uh, uh, yeah. I tried calling that store downtown ya'll had.

Me: Yeah, it closed at the end of last month.

Customer: YEAH! Did ya'll buy 'em out?

Me: What? No, we're the same company they just decided that joint wasn't making enough money.

Customer: Oh, okay. Hey, let me ask you something. If there was a book I was looking for would you be able to tell me if you had it?

This happens all the fucking time. At times, I'm tempted to just say no and let the idiot go back to playing with their poop. But, I never do. How in the fuck do you think we could keep track of all the shit we have in the store if we didn't have the ability to search and see if it existed without the aid of computers? Back to the conversation.

Me: Yeah, what do you want?

Customer: Uh, well, there's this book by a guy named Neil Strauss called...

Me: The Game. You're looking for the how to pick up chicks book.

Customer: WHAT? Uh, uh, is that what it's about?

Me: Yeah, man. The book is about how to score with random chicks. Hang on and I'll grab a copy.

In the interim I proceed to make fun of this asshat with my co-workers for a few minutes even though the book is 5 feet away. I always fuck with people who come in and ask for the Game. They should all be sterilized except none of them are ever going to sniff vag even if they read the book and execute all strategies to full efficacy. If you have to buy a book that helps you dupe some poor lass into opening up her gash then let me save you the trouble and help you find a croaker for roofies. There is slightly less dignity in that.

Me: Okay, I've got the book who should I put it on hold for?

Customer: Let me ask you something first. Are you IN the Galleria or NEAR the Galleria or AROUND the Galleria or BY the Galleria?

Me: Like I said when I answered the phone, we're in the Galleria.

I'm not always this big of a dick when people ask this question (and boy is it a popular one) but I have a special brand of hatred reserved for people coming in for The Game.

Customer: Let me ask you something. Could I find this book online?

Me: Yes, through the wonders of technology almost anything available in our store is just a mouse click away from being yours!

Customer: So, I would just, like, search Neil Strauss and The Game and I'd be able to find it?

Me: Yup! Just like magic! Now who should I put the book on hold for?

Customer: Uh, do you have, like, a lot of them? Or is that the last one?

Me: We surprisingly have a good number of the title.

Customer: Uh, oh, well, then I'll just come by when it's not as busy and get it.

I hang up the phone. Thank you for wasting 10 minutes of my time. If that's the effort you're going to exert towards getting laid just go ahead and by a Fleshlight. It'll save the humiliation.

Rock n Roll Finally Gets a Win in 2010!

2010-01-19T16:19:00.004-06:00

Punknews.org is reporting that the pretentious snoozefest known as the Killers will be going on "indefinite hiatus" (just fucking break up...or better yet, drink a bottle of bleach and vomit allover your past masters) following a couple of shows in Austrailia. Usually, this would be enough for me to go "FUCK YEAH!" and leave it at that. But no, these cockbags had to put out a pretentious little explanation that I will now go FireJoeMorgan style on.
From guitarist (they have one of those in that band?)Dave Keuning:
I'm not sure if people are aware of it but these are probably our last shows for a while.
I'm not sure people still cared you were a band since they've now been told by Rolling Stone and Spin that the Kings of Leon are where they are to herded. But thanks for letting us know the location of the final shows so I can finally let Anwar al-Awlaki know what he has to do get his 40 virgins.
We haven't had a break in quite a while. It's just been touring and making records and on and on and on.
Wow, sounds like a total bummer. You know, getting to travel across the globe with your friends while getting paid for being the soundtrack to Ecstacy overdoes and date rapes, all the groupies lining up from dawn til dusk to blow you pathetic New Order wannabes and then having to take a break from it all to get paid to shit out 12 tracks on a synthesizer over 6 moths must really be taking its toll your ability to enjoy life! Won't somebody leave these geniuses alone to nurture their tortured souls!
It's been like six years just kind of connected together.
You mean like being in a band? And one that tours? Yeah, I think that's what he means. However, we could always hope they'd had been connected like this and we never would've had to suffer Hot Mess or whatever the fuck that record was called.
It's like people just expect us to do that non-stop till we die,
No, no, no, you got that wrong, bro. We just want you to stop AND die. You don't have to do both at the same time but whenever your ready, sporto!
but we just want a little bit of time off, just to be myself and do what I want to do for a little bit.
So you didn't want to be in a band, make records, tour, live in the shadows of that blowhard dicksmoker Brandon Flowers? Then why didn't you quit? I know, you'd lose the ability to score hipster/yuppie tang and all but if that's really how you've felt about the last six years in your band then the music you have produced makes a helluva lot more fucking sense.

Jay Debauchery's Top 10 Records of 2009

2010-01-13T15:59:00.005-06:00

Sorry this is a tad late but...whatever.
10. Vee Dee - Public Mental Health System (Criminal IQ)
I've dug everything this Chicago band has put out so far but those albums and singles were pretty much straight ahead fuzzed out punk with the songs clocking in around the 2 minute mark. With Public Mental Health System these guys have gone into full on Stooges overload with a heavy dose of psychedelia thrown in for good measure. I still think Furthur is still tops but I dig where these guys are going and can't wait to hear what's next.

9. Obits - I Blame You (Sub Pop)
So, Hot Snakes are kaput but at least John Reis started another band (The Night Marchers, who are killer but I sure would like another Sultans record) but what about partner in crime (Drive Like Jehu, Pitchfork) Rick Froberg? He started Obits and their record has been one of the most criminally ignored albums of last year.

8. Social Circkle - City Shock (No Way)
Awesome, snotty 80's style hardcore punk.

7. Smith Westerns - ST (HoZac)
Like a glorious mix of shoegazer and early Bomp! records material. The Smith Westerns are pretty young (between 17-19 when this was recorded) which is pretty shocking that, you know, teenagers now want to ape Nuggets-style rock instead of Owl City. Thank the fuck christ for that.

6. The Spits - IV (Thriftstore)
The Spits never disappoint. I think this might be their best record of synth drenched Killed by Death punk weirdness yet.

5. Thee Oh Sees - Help (In the Red)
John Dwyer fucking rules. Pink and Brown, Coachwhips (come on John, the last record was killer so give us just one more), and the Hospitals are all rad bands this man is responsible for. And now he ventures into less noisy, brit-psychedelic terrain and it's just killer.

4. Them Crooked Vultures - ST (DGC)
Dave Grohl, Josh Homme and John Paul Jones have successfuly created the first rock supergroup that doesn't suck donkey balls. This record fucking slays.

3. Pissed Jeans - King of Jeans (Sub Pop)
Everyone was on this bands nutsack when Hope for Men came out and now no one cares. Why? Pissed Jeans are one of the few bands around doing justice to the Jesus Lizard's sound.

2. Marked Men - Ghosts (Dirtnap)
This is bittersweet because it is probably the last Marked Men album we're ever going to get. Sure, you can say "indefinite hiatus" but I don't buy it. And I'm super bummed because the Marked Men have been one of the best bands around for the 00's not to mention the best band spawned from Texas.

1. Future of the Left - Travels with Myself and Another (4AD)
mclusky is one of my favorite bands of all time so when Falco and co. put a new record out, no matter what the band is named, you can bet your ass I'll be the first one to throw some cash down. Buddyhead sums it up the best:"There are very few bands out there that are writing songs this well-constructed and instantly memorable and there are NO bands out there that sound this fucking punk while doing it. Take notes kids, this band has being rad down to a science."

This is Fucking Awesome

2010-01-08T00:19:00.003-06:00

What can I say about the absolute cockbag known as Mike Love that this video left out? NOTHING! Remember, kids, this is the fucktard that actually thinks "Kokomo" is not only a good song but one worthy of having "The Beach Boys" being associated with hits horridness. Fuck him with a gun.

Benefit for Tim O'Brien

2010-01-05T00:04:00.007-06:00

I've known Tim O'Brien since the Stay Sick column ran at the Daily Cougar and he has always been one of the most sincere and kind music journalists I've ever met. This guy lives rock 'n' roll, never hesitates to help bands out and continually supports young writers and bands. That's how we met.
Tim had read my column and Please Kill Yourself and we became friends fastly over our mutual love of Guitar Wolf. I don't think I would've ever had word one printed in the Houston Press or elsewhere afterward if it weren't for Tim. Not only did he constantly encourage my (often times) juvenile piss and vinegar literary onslaughts but he helped me to become a better writer. When Please Kills Yourself was in it's infancy, Tim was always willing to lend a column or two to beef up the rag and to add to its credibility. His enjoyment and faith in me as a writer helped me keep things moving.
So, I got this flyer to show you and therefore ask for your help in aiding one of the most passionate and talented music writers Houston has unleashed upon the world.
I'll make you folks a deal in case a list of rad bands and a noble cause doesn't peel your banana: come out, pay the cover and you get a beer and a shot on me, Jay Debauchery. Of course, you've got to mention PKY (or else I will have every other asshole asking for a free beer and a shot) cause I ain't made of money. But, if my weak stab at baiting can convince you to throw a few extra bucks towards Tim, his family and his health then I'm down with that and will gladly foot the bill.

We Have Found the Heir to Dee Dee King's Throne

2009-11-11T12:58:00.004-06:00

I am a firm believer that Dee Dee Ramone's (aka Dee Dee King) Standing in the Spotlight is an incredibly fun album. Enamored with the burgeoning hip hop scene around him Dee Dee decided to start sporting Mercedes medallions, the spikey mullet and kickin' out the single most horrendous rap album by a white artist until wrestlers started gettin' in on the gig (fucking listen to "Beach Patrol" by Hulk Hogan if you want a good example). The genius that wrote the first three Ramones albums actually rhymes Heineken with fun. Wow.
When Kid Rock came out a friend of mine said Dee Dee should sue the motherfucker for copping his image and it's hard to argue against that. Check this out:

BOOSH!
Now, we have The Mr. Move, who is, of course, from New York. Could this be Dee Dee's bastard offspring? We'll look into this but it's doubtfull because if he were he would be rapping about titty's full of smack.

As if the World Needed Another Reason to Loathe Muse

2009-09-21T13:47:00.003-05:00

The shitty sub-gay bar music wasn't enough. Being the musical soundtrack to the mormon warthog's intollerable novels wasn't enough. Acting like pretentious assholes, their wanna-be Queen styled American Idiot that is their new album (I would rather dip my cock in the acidic vag belonging to Paris Hilton than have to suffer that audio bile again) it all has brought the most overrated, dull band since the Strokes to their pinacle of douchedom.
From Punknews.org:
Usage should have a value. Someone who just checks email uses minimal bandwidth, but someone who downloads 1GB per day uses way more, but at the moment they pay the same. It is clear which user is hitting the creative industries and it is clear which user is not, so for this reason, usage should also be priced accordingly. The end result will be a taxed, monitored ISP based on usage which will ensure both the freedom of the consumer and the rights of the artists.
Yes, Matt Bellamy, wants to charge people more for the internet for downloading shit whether or not it is done legally. He assumes that just because you use more bandwith than your fucking grandma who checks her gmail account hourly waiting to find out if you still aknoweledge her existence that you must be ripping off "artists."
And let's not forget this is coming from some shitbird who is on a major label that funds his little vanity albums and rakes in cash on tours and record sales. Why else would you release two different versions of the same goddamned album only to include bonus features if not to milk your herd of Spin reading sheep for all the cash they got.
Illegal downloading isn't gonna stop and that really does suck for the people who can't get paid for the music, movies, comics, books, bukkake they create but for years it has been known that the CD is dead and no artist (well, at least not spoiled fucking tards with a major label payroll at their disposal) makes their primary dollars off of a physical release.
Think of it like this: Radiohead or Saul Williams or Nine Inch Nails drops another free album. If Matt Bellamy gets his way you'd be taxed for taking something that was given away. Or how about all that extra content on websites for bands and movies that put up shit for you to download to your hard drive? Or say you're a gamer who spends and unhealthy and ungodly ammount of time prepping your Warcraft raid parties? Yup, bitch, you get taxed too cause it's impossible for this cretin to comprehend that someone is using a massive load of bandwith for something legal. In that respect you are being punished for "hitting the creative industries" who are begging for your bandwith just because this limey fuck has hurt pussy because his latest shit sandwich leaked and no one wants to buy it. It's not that they don't want to give you the money, Matt. It's just that they listened to that weak as fuck wanna be political piece of shit called The Uprising and decided it was too lame to even put onto their iPods.
But let's entertain this idiocy for a little longer. Okay, let's codify this into law and starting collecting this tax. How do we distribute it? How do we figure out who has been robbed the most and therefore should recieve the largest pay day? Yeah, you obviously didn't realize that this tax would kickback to the labels who still don't pay you shit and whom you still do not rely on mainly for your income. Or that there is no goddamned way to distribute this equitably to artists who lose 10 album sales because of a leak. And way to punish young, unsigned or independent bands that DEPEND on people downloading their shit from MySpace and their websites so they can come out to shows and buy merch by making their only means of marketing taxable on their fans but never payable to the band themselves.
In short, get fucked and pull your head out of your ass. Hopefully, then you realize you need to get the fuck over yourself and your shitty band.

Get Ready for the Biggest Musical Trainwreck of the Year!

2009-09-02T13:56:00.004-05:00

Holy fucking shit. Seriously, sweet titty fucking christ I cannot believe what I just read. From the Daily Swarm:
“I recorded five joints for Michael Jackson,” [R.] Kelly said, as we sat in the intimate recording studio nestled in the basement of his Chicago mansion. “This studio here is where Michael recorded. And we had been talking on the phone about his new album, and I was going to finish what Michael was doing at the time. We’re going to get it out though. Michael liked the way I would try to sing the songs just like him.”
So, not only do we get to experience Captain EO's Chinese Democracy (which I recently proclaimed wouldn't happen. My bad.) but kid toucher/pisser R. Kelly is going to be completing it? I haven't been this stoked on failure since Sarah Palin. Anyone expecting a new MJ album to be even remotely listenable needs to pull their head outta their ass and face reality.
And let's not forget that this isn't "I Believe I Can Fly" R. Kelly at the helm. Oh no. This is batshit fucking nuts post-AIDS opera R. Kelly. He's the fucking Tommy Wiseau of R & B. We all know homeboy was dead fucking serious when he started "Trapped in Closet" and then realized we were all laughing at him and tried to play it off like it was his intention all along. In fact, he's still continuing on in that vein.

Worlds of suck are about to collide and the only one who can be legitamately excited about this impending shit sandwich is Joe Jackson who is already counting his dollars.

Andre Williams is the Filthiest Goddamned Old Man on the Planet

2009-08-30T22:59:00.005-05:00

One of my older co-workers is really into R&B and blues history right now. He's so ass deep in the subject he actually bought Crossroads on DVD. Yes, that is how dedicated the man is to absorbing everything he can about the genre. He knows his shit (cat blows through like three books a week on the subject) and I asked him if he dug Andre Williams aka Mr. Rhythm.
Andre Williams wrote Stevie Wonders first hit ("Thank You for Loving Me"), the amazing "Shake a Tail Feather" (Ike and Tina rocked the shit out of that song) in addition to some tunes for the P-Funk. He was signed to the legendary Chess Records in 68 and has been a huge influence on the genres of soul, funk, blues and rock n roll for about 50 years in total.
Of course, in punk blues and garage circles he is considered canon, recording with the Compulsive Gamblers, the Dirtbombs, Demoliton Doll Rods and the wicked cool Diplomats of Solid Sound. But y'all don't want to read my ramblings about this insanely cool and pioneering dirty old motherfucker. Fine. Here's the video.

If Ignorance is Bliss, Then You Must Be the Happiest Person on Earth...

2009-08-12T20:29:00.004-05:00

This blurb is in response to my Facebook peeps wanting a little elaboration on my encounter this morning with Stephanie, my corner store gas attendant. As some of you may recall Stephanie is the little ball of sunshine that rings me up for my glutinous drive in pastry and overly caffeinated morning beverage. She has enlightened me with such gems as comparing the "scruffy man god" David Cook to that of a "young, vibrant" Sammy Hagar. Yes. I'll let that soak in for a minute for it only got better from there. She did not realize that Van Halen existed prior to Sammy bastardizing the once great band (not that shows my bias or anything...shit storm incoming.) Let me come to her defense here and preface this with the fact that she's only seventeen. (Too bad she's not a Winger fan...) To this I can give her some leniency. Musical tastes, like opinions, are like assholes. Some are just shittier than others. I'll give her that. Her closeted exposure to the outside world was only being shown to me in these weekly exchanges that tended to tap dance in the realm of pop culture. Until today. ME: So how are you ling that Diver Down I burned for you? STEPHANIE: Eh. I think David Cook is still the bomb. It's ok, but I have been really digging the new Miley Cyrus song. ME: Are you fucking serious? STEPHANIE: Uh. Yeah silly. It's like being played everywhere. Party in the USA! ME: That's her? (People start to come in, so we move to the closed register.) STEPHANIE: Uh yeah. Come on. It's on 104 like all the time. It's the bomb. ME: I think the last time I listened to 104 your mom was in her second trimester. STEPHANIE: Whatever (grabs Seventeen magazine) look. She's hot. Is she not hot? You'd hit that... ME: Dude. I'm thirty one. The only seventeen year old anything I'd hit would be the bottle of scotch I have at the house. And no. She looks like plastic midget. STEPHANIE: You're crazy. ME: If you say so. She looks like she should be wearing a big hat and making cookies in a hollowed out tree. STEPHANIE: What? That's dumb. ME: No seriously. I don't get it. What human trafficking cartel did all you kids come in on that were told this kind of stuff was cool? Were you all brainwashed? And then it happened. I got the look. Not the "screw you guy" look (trust me- I have a Masters in that one,) but the glassy eyed doe stare. She looked like the chip set in her head was trying to process the statement. STEPHANIE: Cartel? you mean drugs right? ME: Well yeah. there are those too. STEPHANIE: What do drug cartels have to do with the mall? ME: Mall? What the hell are you talking about? The mall? STEPHANIE: You know. Like Memorial City... well it's not as bad as, oh man- the Galleria. Oh their traffic is the worst. People just walking all which way and shit I hate that. It's like hello people we walk on the right side here in America. Hello! You know? Sweet baby Jesus on a pogo stick... ME: No. Trafficking... that's not trafficking that's just assholes at the mall. Trafficking is when people not of this country are brought in illegally. Big rigs full of people... sneaking across the border...sold into prostitution..anything? STEPHANIE: Oh that. That sucks. ME: Yeah. Yeah it does. [Silence bordering on awkward] STEPHANIE: Hey. I finished that Catcher in the Rye you told me about. I didn't get it. ME: That's ok. Read it again when you are all old like me. Gotta go. Tell your pops I said hey and give your mom a big hug for me. STEPHANIE: Will do. Be good. As I drove in to work I got to thinking about Stephanie. Not the fact that her blind devotion to her homogenized pop music was what is killing music as we know it, but her innocent facade that was teetering on sheer ignorance to things around her. Is it really ignorance if she is unaware of it in the first place? I'd assume you'd need to know about it in order to ignore it.

Today, I Wish Cancer Upon Sean Gregory

2009-08-09T15:53:00.003-05:00

Fuck you Time Magazine. Working in retail is shitty enough and my fellow worker bees and I already deal with loads of cheap ass fucktards but you had to go ahead and encourage them, didn't you? Sean Gregory recently published this article and I hope his magazine folds and he has to work with me for a week or two and experience the horrible treatment retail workers are receiving because of lines like this: Since retailers can't afford to lose you these days, no demand is too peculiar. Fuck off and die.
Sean, let me give you a little info. The company I work for is on the ropes and sure we can't afford to lose customers but we also can't afford to cave in to the incredible demands cheap assholes who have more than enough money to pay the list price. Here is an example. We recently had a promotion that was good IN STORE ONLY. No special orders, not good on the website just shit that our company stocks IN STORES. I get a phone call inquiring about a book that our stores DO NOT STOCK and the guy keeps haggling with me about how I can circumvent the rules so he can score the discount. I keep telling him there is no way and eventually he gets pissed off that I can't even order the book for him (without pre-paying) then let him pick it up and redeem the offer way after the deal has passed. He hung up on me after 20 minutes of whining and saying, "Maybe your manager could do something for me." No, he couldn't, cause it was me! Oh and during this whole ordeal a group of customers waiting for my assistance walked off in frustration. Yeah, you're gung-ho attitude on haggling distracts staff from people who are more than content to buy shit at the list price and supervisors who have more important things to do than tell the customer, "No," again after the staff have already refused their request. Way to make us lose money, dickpig!
And if you are wondering why it would've been so difficult or bad for me to just order the goddamned book and let El Cheapo redeem his discount...we LOSE money on the deal. Yeah, when we special order something (which I cannot even do anymore) the customer pays for it and we break even. When we allow someone to break the rule we LOSE money on the transaction. And if we let all your little deal shoppers out there in on the gig, then the company would go under and a shitload of people would be unemployed just so you could save motherfucking sales tax on your purchase. Does that make you feel better, Mr. Gregory?
Yeah, I know times are tough and sure if you find expired meat and wanna buy it and risk shitting your colon out for a month just for the discount then that's awesome. But getting people pumped up to go out try to force retailers to price match (that's what Walmart is for, buddy) or redeem an internet offer (here's a clue, you want it at the price listed on the net THEN FUCKING BUY IT ON THE NET) means your just making all of our lives more miserable. The customers are already nasty, crude, uncaring and cheap enough that they don't need the encouragement from some asshole who couldn't find a better story to cover. DIE.

The King is Dead. Get Over It.

2009-08-09T15:46:00.003-05:00

I got asked to submit 600 words to the Free Press for a recent issue. This is what I wrote. It didn't make it in the mag (truth be told, I don't know if they ever recieved it. I sent to the e-mail my friend gave me and didn't hear anything back afterwards) so here it is for all of you to enjoy. Oh, and I wrote this before Bill Maher did his little rant so don't accuse me of aping him.
One of the many things that agonizes me over the state of humanity is how we react to any celebrity death like it’s 9/11 and the ensuing pop-culture zeitgeist it becomes. It’s not like we lost the fucking cure to cancer, people. Some cat who just happened to sing/act/play sports/write died just like thousands of other folks do every single day. It’s great if their work managed to impact your life in some way. But, really, is that a reason to ignore everything else that is going on in the world so we can pick apart the still warm corpse like the scandal hungry vultures we’ve become? Michael Jackson’s death has quickly become the zenith of this sort of behavior.
While the world was mourning His Royal Badness’ demise, the entire American media seemed to ignore things like the U.S. launching a major military operation in Afghanistan, unemployment levels rising, Massachusetts suing the government over the Defense of Marriage Act, continued civil unrest in Iran (has CNN ended its love affair with Twitter?), the economy lingering in the shitter and the recurring clusterfuck that attempted national health care has become. Is it too much to ask that we get in depth reports on stories that have more impact on our lives and culture than the sordid affairs of a kid toucher who hadn’t contributed shit to music for well over a decade? Sure, his finest albums (Off the Wall and Thriller) are essential and influential contributions to the canon of pop music but in the years since, Mr. Peter Pan had become nothing more than a pop-culture punching bag and had announced his retirement. There would be no further musical endeavors for him and even if he had decided to hit the studio would the world really benefit from experiencing his Chinese Democracy?
Even more upsetting was when viewers tried to call the media out over sensationalism and tabloid muckraking, some of these assholes had the nerve to get offended and defensive about their “journalism.” Jane Velez-Mitchell (you know, Nancy Grace but with a brunette fem-mullet) was the worst of the lot, piously asserting that the media’s coverage of Captain EO’s overdose was bringing attention to this new phenomena of pharmaceutical abuse in this country. Are you fucking kidding me? I haven’t seen one article or heard one talking head delve into The Gloved One’s epic drug use and discuss how it mirrors a greater social ill. I’d actually be open to that. After all, if we’re going to consider his death a tragedy, why not try to make it relatable to the other people suffering from similar maladies? That way the vicious dumpster diving for new “shocking” revelations could possibly serve a purpose other than a boost to the network ratings. But I doubt it. Or how about interviewing some of our fine elected officials in the legislature and ask them what they are doing now to curb the croaker docs from dispatching unnecessary medication to pill fiends if this was such an epic catastrophe? No? Then please give up the ghost. On that note, Sheila Jackson Lee can fist herself with a rhinestone glove. With everything that’s going on in the country it’s nice to know that the most pressing item on your agenda is to attempt to pass a resolution in Congress to honor the King of Pop.
And even after the gaudy funeral, our news outlets just can’t let the story die. Maybe I was wrong in my initial assessment. Michael Jackson’s death doesn’t just serve as the zenith of our pop culture obsession but also the nadir. But, that’s just me being an optimist.

Somebody Give John Sharkey a T.V. Show

2009-07-19T23:49:00.002-05:00

I fucking adore Clockcleaner. Just go through the archives here and you can see me fellate the band whenever I get the chance. Too bad they ain't around anymore but John Sharkey can still inspire in ways beyond music: having the balls to talk shit on bands most fans/writers bestow graceful prose upon just because some random tastemaker did.
Hey, Clockcleaner was one of those bands (sort of) at one point, but the main crux of the writing about them was focused on their attitude and notoriety and the fact that every band in Philadelphia hated them. Weak, pussy journalism. Anyways, here is Clockleaner on the Practice Space thing (I re-discovered this when I was pulling the LiveFastDie vid) discussing peeing on Bad Wizard's merch table. Come back to America, John. Or at least wreck Austrailia like Nick Cave did in his teens.

The Cage Family: Modern Mediocrities

2009-07-19T23:01:00.006-05:00

Okay, we all know who Nicholas Cage is and how he USED to rock shit in movies like Wild at Heart. Well, I'm not sure if he actually rocked house as much as gave over to his rabid Elvis obsession but with Lynch it worked out pretty well. I dig Leaving Las Vegas but hey, what over privelaged asshole can't act like an over privelaged asshole alcoholic convincingly? The point is, Nic Cage is weak as fuck as evidenced over...everything he has fucking done from Con Air on. Jesus titty fucking christ what kind of random, made up Southern accent was that? "Put...tha...bunnayah...dahwn!"
Still, we would wait years for him to hit his lowest. Here it is in a couple of minutes.

He can't even walk convincingly in those scenes let alone read a line without making you wonder if he is intellectually disabled. But it gets worse for poe ole Cameron Poe. He has a spoiled 19 year old (hey, if you go to Beverly Hills High on a scholarship holler at me and then I'll retract that last statement) with a fashion line (wonder who paid for that, pops!), named Weston (or as he prefers his friends to call him, Arcane),with a shitty metal band. Eyes of Nocturn.
Just the name alone...I...can't...BWAHAHAHAHAH!...just check out the video. Or, if you'd prefer skip to my thoughts below.

Look, I would rather spend a random night at a Fitzgerald's battle of the bands than have to listen to this garbage again. Great, Weston or Wicked Wes or Arcane or Shithead Cage. There are a lot of moronic 19 year olds who think Cradle of Filth is something to worship and props to having the funds to deck you and your band out in the hottest goth-metal-tard couture. The fact is, you suck. You know it, the corpse painted drones that can barely piece two chords together know and the three people politely clapping in the audience fucking know it too. THREE PEOPLE! And who the fuck was the guy giving the fist bump to your mongo bassist after the song? His dad? Well, guess it makes up for all the soccer games he missed which lead to his "brooding" and "dark" state.
It's cool that your (more than likely) overpriced shit you call fashion donates the proceeds (I'd like to see a balance sheet to see what the costs were, by the way) to underprivelaged moms but how about you be as charitable to music fans and just fucking stop. With Attack Attack!, Brokencyde, the Millionaires, Coldplay...god there's just too many to list...save us the suffering of another vanity project from some shithead Hollywood asshole who didn't have the balls to curtail his kids "creativity" by being honest and telling him he sucks worse than H.I.'s forehead in National Treasure.
This quote is the most telling, ""I come from a lineage of great artists," he said. "I just want to contribute to my genre and honor my family." Goddamn, I honestly don't know if you're succeeding or failing. Let's go with failing. Oh, and one last thing. Take those gauntlets on your forearms and BASH YOURSELF IN THE BALLS REALLY FUCKING HARD so we can be sure this "lineage of great artists" ends with your diaper stain.

LiveFastDie is Done.

2009-07-03T23:10:00.004-05:00

Goddamnit. All we got was one incredibly trashy album (Bandana Thrash, which I finally scored on vinyl after performing my first reading) and a bunch of killer 7"s. Wait, what the fuck am I saying? That's way more than I had any right to expect from the purveyors of such classics as "Bombed over Sixpackistan," "Fat Guy with an iPod," "Passing Out (in Front of the Children)" and the inimitable "Pissing on the Mainframe" (which you can hear shortly).
I drove with my girlfriend at the time up to SXSW a few years ago early as FUCK so we could catch LiveFastDie and get trashed before Turbonegro. It was pretty rockin'. Ian from the Riverboat Gamblers couldn't believe how fast they were live and let me tell you, brother, it wasn't a bad thing. Of course, Angela bitching at me about taking a Jager shot every other song was the only downer of what would've been an otherwise perfect rock 'n' roll experience. Hopefully, Camero Werewolf and co. will bring about some new scumpunk ventures but until then we can only weep that there won't be any more debaucherous and drunken insanity that there music stood to represent. And yes, I know the interviewer is a dork (oh really, sherlock? they're songs are about things? I never knew music worked like that!)

The Rise of Douche-Core: Part Deux...che! Girls Turn!

2009-06-28T20:28:00.006-05:00

first off, the Dead Kennedy checked out the douche-core post today and while his jaw was resting comfortably on his balls he did make this comment about Brokencyde and their brethren, "I think I hate this more than I hate religion." Looks like "Jihad for Rock 'N' Roll Motherfuckers" might get retired!
I have a friend at work with whom I trade horrendous music videos on Facebook and through this some other folks decided to experience the audio raping that is Brokencyde. One of the kids, turned me on to a band that is along the same lines but is female. And...I...oh Bog just experience it for yourself. Sorry, in advance.

. Okay, skanks, I'm sorry the Suicide Girls decided to have standards and told you to take a hike but recording an album as a means of revenge just means that we all have to suffer your poorly thought out, sub-Rock of Love Bus whoredom. Look, I get it. You were scene whores who trolled around with the hipsters who then passed you around like a mirror full of coke in Studio 54 only to be castigated to desperate booty call status because they felt you were meh enough that their peers wouldn't make fun of them for fucking you. Hey, that was wrong, but obviously you were willing participants in the scenario and felt that breaking your pelvis in two to more easily imbibe Decemberists' Fan #1's seed was a sure fire way to become Queens of the Scene! Didn't work out so well, huh?
I'm sorry your parents wouldn't let you cake on pounds of make-up in middle school (it helps hide the herpes sores in your video though, so, props for learning necessity) but is that need to create a superficial image of a vapid whore who wants nothing more than men to fawn over her for some arbitrary standard of beauty only to exploit them in revenge for the way you were exploited so expulsivlry urgent to your soul that it warranted a song, let alone video? It seems counterproductive to me.
And, hey, Millionaires, I'm sorry to get so shallow here but I lower my standard of critique based on what's placed in front of me: are you pulling the whole MySpace picture deal? You know, you we can't see any of you from the neck down so how do we know you're not all hogzilla past the equator? Or that your tits are lopsided? Or that I would be able to see the syphilis leaking out your vag down your leg?
Like I said, it's a bullshit, arbitrary standard of beauty (well, except the STD thing. No one is gonna defend that) but you obviously want to play up the coy, ditzy ready to "take off [your] underwear" party girl aspect musically and asthetically so it's only fair to be honest.
Or how about this. You quit playing music. Quit being empty, shallow, and lame and listen to some Bikini Kill records. And your casual attitude towards exploiting your sexuality (well, I'm not sure you have any but you seem arrogant enough to act like you do so I'll play along) to dupe mongoloid male's into satiating your desire for booze seems destined for an end that is sure to be unpleasant but given your music and lyrics might not be entirely undeserved. I hope you skanks get an offer to be Phil Spector's new girl group.

The Rise of Douche-core (Temporary Term Until I Come Up with Something Better)

2009-06-25T14:00:00.005-05:00

America has an infatuation with people of the lowest common denominator. We revel in the trash tabloid antics of reality TV stars, go nuts over books and blogs dealing with insufferable, extremely ego-maniacal specimens of humanity and just can't wait until these people actually end up recording albums.
The number 1 dream of most kids is to be a pop-star (I was willing to split it about dead even with movie star but since most movie stars desperatley want to shit out a record I think my final assertion is correct) and for many who find fame via a leaked sex tape, an E! tv series or even YouTube stars this is the desired goal of all their self-inflicted humilation and vicious public dissection of personality. While their music always fucking sucked at least you knew they had to suffer somewhat before their dreams were finally crushed and they were thrown back to the confines of the Vh1 meat grinder. Now, we have bands that have bypassed that whole scene and are exploding into mainstream consciousness with some of the most dull, horrid and bafflingly popular music. It's like these people went into an A & R dickhead's office and pitched themselves and the music was tailored to fit their extra vinegary scent of failure.
Welcome to Douche-Core, people. Whereas it would make sense for some dumb cunt with big fake tits like Heidi from the Hills to drop an album (in logical terms it actually doesn't. There is no way in hell anyone should let that bitch within ten feet of even a karaoke machine. But, because these wasted souls are such attention whores looking to exploit the Us Weekly readers and gossip hounds for as much cash as possible they have to offer as much product as possible before they move on to the next pop-culture car crash) the fact that Asher Roth, Brokencyde and ThreeOh3! have shat thier wretchedness onto wax and the internet signals a new low in the human race. Not only because these bands exist but because people are eagerly wallowing in their output. Hey, I wouldn't be talking about these fucking twats unless they had made enough of a ripple to make in my radar via work (oh yeah, the popped collar crowd goes nuts for Asher and Three while the Hot Topic poodle-core kids can't get enough of Brokencyde) or random shit talking on music blogs.
When I tell friends about just how fucking appalling this shit is they immediately accuse me of self-righteous hyperbole. Well, here is Exhibit fucking A: Brokencyde:

Wow. There is so much wrong there I don't know where to begin. The Flock of Seagulls haircuts? The preponderance of hot pink and 80's day-glo attire? The bored looking skanks? The insanely disgusting misogny? Oh wait, these are aesthetic complaints and I'm here to bitch about the music exclusively. Okay. WHO THE FUCK THOUGHT ANYTHING IN THIS WAS A GOOD IDEA? It's like the beat was ripped from one of those clubs you find New Jersey guido's with orange tan and rock hard spiked hair trying to date rape some shore chicks. Let's ignore the auto-tuner because that shit has been beat into the ground and it's understandable for a bunch of white, suburban New Mexico dorks to worship and mimic anything Kanye West does but the screamo shit? YYYYYOOOOOOOOOOOW! Really? I guarantee you the band meeting when they decided to include that garbage (maybe at a later date we can imagine the one where the decided to have the mascot from Piggly Wiggly in the band) went something like this:
Poodle-core Brah #1: Brah, man that beat is so tight and yo like my rhymes about bitches and shit gettin' messay and not wantin' them dykes around cuz they fuck with my penis flow are DA BOMB but we just sound like every otha whitey shorty (high pitched voice) PLAYA PLAYA out in the game and deez streets. We gotsta set ourselves apart and pay respect that yo-core shit that is our ROOTZ, DAWG!
Poodle-core Brah #2: For reelz, homie. We be whack without something for dem hoes at Visible Changes who hooked us up with this fly dye-job and feathered spikes to get wet over. They always be clocking my shit when I'm shopping for fresh lime green and hot pink duds at da Hot Topic. Wait, that's it son! We gon do that screamin' shit like those bands they play in the store! You spits that hot fiyah and I'll go YOOOOOOOOOOW! after the verse and we'll get like all dem suburban shorties panties MOIST, PLAYA!
Poodle-core Brah #1: DAAAAAAMN! That is some smart shit son! Dad, yo pops! You bankrollin' dis here piece so what you think?
Poodle-Core Brah #1's Dad who is financing his fuck up child's retarded musical endeavor: Well son, it is always good to cross promote yourself and to diversify you're musical style so that it can attract as wide a crowd as possible.
(Poodle-core Brah's stare at each other like Stephen Hawking just delivered a speech on physics)
Poodle-core Brah #1: Soooooo? You'll still front us the cake, pops?
Dad: (sighs) Yes, Bradley. (flips the kid his check book then retreats to his bedroom to swallow a shotgun)
Now we get MTV whoring this bile out and don't the kids just love it. All three of these talentless (sorry, I expended all of my hatred on Brokencyde and do not want to suffer through Asher Roth or ThreeOH3! again) assholes are gaining in popularity and duping a generation who was weaned on Limp Bizkit into further musical idiocy. It's bands and fads like this that really make me glad the record industry is almost fucking dead.

Why are You People Freaking Out Over this Fucktard?

2009-06-15T21:04:00.004-05:00

Usually, I wouldn't waste my hatred ranting about shit like American Idol but the whole Adam Lambert deal is just confusing the ever lovin' shit outta me. Of course, the fact that people would worship some schmuck just cause they won an arbitrary karaoke contest is beyond my comprehension but folks are treating this guy-liner sporting twat like the second coming. Weep, for the state of modern music, my friends.
So, homeboy is on the cover of the new Rolling Stone and I've had customers at work flip the fuck out over the rag even willing to pay a five dollar shipping fee since they can't make it over to pick up a copy (what are there no Stop N Go's near your house?). It's really funny to me how people seem to think this kid has an edge or is representing anything remotely close to rock 'n' roll. He's just another asshole who has servicable pipes and wants to ride the major label gravy train until the world moves onto the next big parade. When I explain this to people (usually dressed in wretched 80's throwback attire and neon) they get upset and tell me the Rolling Stone interview has a lot of juicy tidbits and sets him apart from past Idol contestants.
Spoiler, idiots, no it doesn't. He is no different than anyone else on the show and let me explain this to you point by point playing devils advocate to set up the arguments.

1. HE'S GAY!
Whoopdie shit. Is that really the most compelling thing about this asshat? The fact that he likes the cock and is open about it? Besides, you knew he was gay before he outed himself in Rolling Stone (for fucks sakes Entertainment Weekly pretty much outed him when they did a cover story on him). Is that such a big deal for you that we have a pop star that is into the same sex? Boy George, Elton John, George Michael...the list goes on forever of successful gay men who have wrecked the pop charts while never hiding their sexuality (and if you ever had a doubt about George Michael seek help). So what's the big deal about him saying, "Yeah, I'm gay," in print? How does that add to your enthusiasm for him? Does he go into detail about how prefers facials, grabs ankles and considers himself a bottom? NO. Besides, Clay Aiken did the same exact thing except he waited a few years to admit to the truth when he desperately needed publicity. Get the fuck over it.

2. He's a rocker!
No, he's not. Just because he picked good tunes (I've never seen the show but know of the songs he butchered) doesn't mean he is some devil may care rebel out to revolutionize the American Idol brand. He is a simple yes man doing whatever the puppet masters at his label impart upon him. American Idol stars' albums follow whatever trend is popular in music at the time and since Green Day is the biggest band on the planet they decided to go with the kid who likes to shriek and will appeal to the rowdy side of the teeny bopper set. Besides, Bo Bice and Chris Daughtry already did it. Oh and let's not ignore the fact the he slaughtered EVERY SINGLE FUCKING SONG he sang. He robbed "Mad World" of all it's impact and beauty with a blase cover. His Johnny Cash go? Fucking dreadfull and I'm sure the Man in Black is spinning in his grave right now. And how the fuck dare do you cover Queen. There is no way in hell you could move people the way Freddy Mercury did. That man could lift you to the top of the mountain or drag you to hell with his voice. And double fuck you since because you're gay you should know not to disgrace a pioneer like Freddy fucking Mercury.

3. OMG! An American Idol that Does Drugs? HOT!
Wow, it's almost like they want these kids to act like actual rock stars! Soccer moms be damned! Oh wait, there was some fat chick who was on Celebrity Rehab for being a coke-head and a drunk. Yeah, strike three, Adam. Fuck off and tell your cult of fans to drink the purple Kool-Aid.

And in case you were wondering, yes, I fucking hate myself for knowing this much about American Idol.

The Most Fucking Epic Request I've Gotten from a Mexico City Tourist

2009-05-25T22:53:00.003-05:00

It's no lie that I hate the fresas (thanks, Bianca!). You know the wealthy as fuck tourists from Mexico City who come down to Texas and instantly begin to act like Euro-Trash, tossing cash around like they're PacMan Jones, treating the staff wherever they go like shit and just existing as all around examples of failed humanity.
I used to think it was the book store that got the brunt of the bullshit from these fuckers but after hanging out with fellow slaves to the Galleria (even some who used to work there a decade ago) I've found I'm not alone. We all fucking hate these people and their endless amounts of cash and excessive demands (no, cockstain, season five of Lost is not out yet) and happiness at watching their children wreck shit while screaming out for one another at the top of their lungs. But, I met one guy who made me realize maybe all the mini-fresas aren't just emo-manga-Twihard-dorks (most insane requests are made at the behest of the litte brats at home). Some of them actually know good shit. This is what I got asked for while the only other punk rocker employed at my store stood by as our jaws simultaneously dropped and turned into big Charlie Brown grins.

Two Oz Skanks Teach You How to Fuck Mediocre Bands

2009-05-18T18:18:00.002-05:00

I don't actually know if these chicks are Austrailian or not but seeing as how they're proud of fucking Silverchair...it's a pretty safe bet. So, here we have two pretty meh hookers giving you advice on fucking way past their prime alternative, metal or hardcore bands. Hey ladies, if you CAN'T get a guy in a hardcore band to fuck you then you just need to give up on men. Those dudes are some of the most mongoloid motherfuckers who will stick their dick in just about anything. There is no artform. Just show them your vag and if they aren't edge they will jump right on that shit.
Oh and you think it was skill with your poon that got you nailed by Scott Vogel? The dude who says shit like this on stage, "This song is a new one so if you know the words come and help me singalong it's called "Keep Your Mouth Shut!"?" You're lucky he didn't shit himself mid-coitus. And tour managers? Honey, that takes you way down on the groupie chain when you brag about fucking a tour manager. It burns my soul to think that the Madden brothers are getting laid or Jamey Jasta is wasting gash just for being in the most base hardcore band on the planet but a tour manager should never get groupie sniz. That just means you really don't believe in the primal power of your wretched cunt.
10 bucks says VH1 is gonna greenlight a bootcamp style reality show on these two syphelitic skanks.

The Most Awesome Band Fight Ever

2009-05-09T14:22:00.002-05:00

Sorry for the lack of updates around here but I'm just too miserable lately to try and pound out some new vapid, hostile and juvenile criticism of shitty bands and other pop culture maladies. Hopefully, after having a 3 day vacation from the utter hell that is my job (I want to carpet bomb Mexico City just so I don't have to hear a request for a motherfucking TV show that is currently airing or a movie that hasn't even been released yet) I can get my head right and keep the hate alive. With that said, here is a tiny morsel of joy.
If you've never seen Dig!, Netflix that shit pronto, children. It's not going to change your life or anything but it certainly will provide loads of entertainment wathcing two groups of competing douchebags try to cash in on the mid-90's indie scene. The singer of the Dandy Warhols pretty much made this film as revenge on Brian Jonestown Massacre's Anton Newcombe but he comes off smelling just as vinegary.
The highlight of the film comes when BJM are playing for some major label execs and then Anton gets all hurt pussy over somebody fumbling a power chord and goes fucking beserk. See that little twat with the Spock hair and pretending to be an important member of the band? That's Anton's only fucking friend and defender throughout the whole flick and even he gets a tongue lashing for failing at the maraccas. Not even Axl Rose could top an end to a band fight with a line like, "Fucking broke my si-TAR, motherfucker!"

We Interrupt Your Usual Music Nazism for this Important Message: Yao to Portland

2009-04-19T22:27:00.001-05:00

New York Post Solicits Headlines from 12 Year Olds

2009-04-19T14:10:00.003-05:00

"Stinkees?" Really? Is that the best they could fucking come up with? What, was Suckees" too offensive to print? Was journalist Daddy so bombed off the 9 dollar PBR that he let junior punch that shit out on his laptop? How about the "Shitees?" That actually rolls off the toungue with great ease.
I can't believe a staff of people get paid a salary to come up with a headline that goddamned ridiculous. I should give them credit for runnning that awesome picture with it (not as awesome as this though) but for a city heralded as having the most brutal and unforgvingly nasty tabloids that is some weak shit.

Thank the FUCK Christ...Blender is No More

2009-03-31T13:12:00.005-05:00

Whew. It's like the Jihad for Rock 'N' Roll has won a small victory in that Blender Magazine will no longer be defiling music journalism. Yeah, those fuckers have folded and it really is for the best. Just look at all that garbage written on the cover (not to mention WHO is on the cover) and tell me Blender didn't need to go the way of the DoDo.
While it is good to have as many music mags out there covering different genres and styles and trying to spread what the writers feel is good music to the massess...Blender just wasn't one of them.
They focused more on hopping on trendy artists and spent way too much being celebutard starfuckers to ever write anything substantial about music. Nothing but endless bullshit lists, flavor of the month pop-culture stars (usually chicks with big tits...seriously, if you ever put Tila Tequila on your magazine cover you immediately lose all credibility in covering music and well, anything), and reviews so trite and pointless it often made you wonder whether the critics had ever actually listened to the disc in the first place.
Oh, yeah and they declared Perez Hilton the new Pitchfork once upon a time. That's not saying I like Pitchfork at all (I really fucking hate that site) but at least their writers are somewhat informed on music and aren't just sucking the corporate cock on new pop divas.
Blender was the bastard son of Maxim but for people who desperately wanted to be a part of the Abercrombie hipster music snob set and the world is a better place for its demise.

You Would Assume I Would Write Something Totally Harsh and Fucking Cruel About A-Rod Before This...But...Here We Are

2009-03-19T22:51:00.003-05:00

A. He has stuck his dick in post-Warren Beatty Madonna (and that ain't saying much).
B. He is on the most despised team in all of sports (American, that is).
C. His fans even can't stand his no-clutch performances in the post-season.
D. Heir Selig annointed him as the Golden Boy to save the game from the curse of Barry Bonds, the Roidcket and Big Mac and he comes up as guilty as the rest of them.
E. And then pictures like these.

Followed by his desperate success in quashing the revelation of what his favorite Madonna song is so he doesn't get hurt pussy in visiting stadiums.
What else could I say about this complete, total and utter twat-muffin? Alex Rodriguez bonds himself to narcissistically compulsive acts of wanton douchedom like AIDS bonds itself to T-Cells.

Disembowel Yourselves with Wooden Hooking Spoons, Otaku Enthusiasts

2009-03-12T13:14:00.005-05:00

I cannot fucking stand Otaku. These, for those thankfully unaware, are manga (Japanese comic book) fanatics who are pretty much the bane of my existence at work.
Look, I'm an unapologetic nerd and have respect for other peoples genre fandom (except for the Twihards. Fucking die.) but these douchetards are some of the lamest motherfuckers ever to grace the planet. Should you be an avid reader of Naruto, Fruit's Basket, or anything resembling that retardedness here is why I hate the fact that your are in my bookstore.
Just like comics, records, baseball cards and your dad's subscription to Playboy, there are people who have collections of manga because they are so jazzed on the genre. Don't ask me why. Given that, please don't get upset when I tell you that you can't take the entire 57 book run of Tentacle Rape Happy Time Explosion off to TRY and finish before we close up shop. Yeah, folks. We have a couple of kids who spend just about 10 hours every fucking day in the store just reading manga. Of course, they don't work which is why they treat us like Manga Library Central but my hatred and obvious contempt for these losers is actually starting to drive them away.
Anyways, the reason I will allow to have two books off the shelf at a time is that there are people who come into the store and want to buy a series in bulks of 5 or 6. If Stunted Emotional Growth in My Chemical Romance Fan's 10-15 are in your pile while you're still reading #2, well, we don't get that money and the customer is upset. Oh, what is that? You're a customer? NO YOU ARE NOT. Customers come in with the potential to purchase items. You come in knowing damn well you'll never spend a fucking dime in the bookstore and only read our books because:
A. Comic shops kick your little emo assess out if they even catch you glancing at a page for more than a second (this is why with ALL series runs they only carry the first and last three). And
B. The public library (I'm told) has a shitty selection of manga.
So, from here on out you can pretty much guess I treat these kids like the cheap little creeps they are. It isn't just because they don't buy anything (shit, we get regulars in all the time who do the same that I don't mind), it's the fact that they horde shit people want to buy. Oh, and the fact that most of the kids are thieves.
When we received our loss results for the year we were all shocked to learn that books were higher than multimedia. I am confident most of that came from manga kids. Why? Because I find our (lame) security devices and shrink wrap and coding stickers for manga allover the goddamn store, tucked away in the darkest corners of a bookshelf. We have caught and banned more people for trying to rip manga or other Otaku product (toys, snacks, posters) than we have for stealing CD's. That's fucking impressive. Oh, and it's not just the Otaku shit they steal. These wretched souls have a strong preclivity for stealing sex books too. That, I can live with. At least they are getting some form of erotic stimulation other than a bare twat school girl getting her vag pounded by some ancient demons billion tentacle looking phallus.
And let's not forget that these kids damage fucking collectibles. No one is gonna buy a manga that has the front cover bent, the spine broken and grease and Bog knows what else smearing the pages. Recently, I've noticed a few of our regular beings with human similarities abusing these books and I'm now allowed to tell 'em that they have to buy the book or get out of the store...for good.
Unfortunately, I haven't had the chance to do that yet since these manga kids are so into their addiction they can't risk giving up a free score. But, they'll slip up and my world for 8 hours a day will be brighter. My advice to them is to grow the fuck up, start buying the shit they like or just move onto some new free form of avarice. There's always Internet porn.

This Makes Episode I Almost Watchable

2009-03-04T20:04:00.001-06:00

I said almost, people.

Yo! 51 Minds, Let's Make This Shit Real...PRONTO!

2009-02-22T19:29:00.002-06:00

The other day Black Nathan called me up to give me some good news. It seemed that Rock of Love (sweet fucking christ if you're not watching this skanktastic train wreck of plastic surgeon enhanced daddy issues what the fuck is wrong with you?) would continue past this third season but with Glenn Danzig. They would re-title the show Rock of Love:Brides of Satan and goddamn if I wasn't giddy if not entirely skeptical. Of course, a 2 second research session later I found out it was just some bullshit a random kid posted on the VH1 messageboards. No big deal, but still a loss for all of us. When you think about it, of course it had to be fake. I mean, how many chicks under three feet that are into metal could they round up to act like they wanna fuck Danzig? You can't really have the ladies slut it up when they are barred from sporting the clear heels.
If, for some divine reason, the producers of Rock of Love decide to take this little idea with any sort of seriousness (really, what the fuck is Danzig doing aside from trying to find funding for his sure to be shit horror movie?) let me add some suggestions for the potential challenges on the show:
Who Can Produce the Best Fake Southern Accent Despite Being Born in New Jersey

Chicken Sacrificing Judged on Speed, Ease AND the Amount of Blood That Can Be Slathered Over Pert Titties

Defend Your Man After He is Knocked Out for Talking Shit to the Openers and Being a Total Dickwad

Who Can Change My Colostomy Bag in the Most EEEEVIL Manner

R.I.P. Lux Interior

2009-02-04T22:20:00.004-06:00

The Cramps have long been one of my favorite bands. From the first moment I heard them (it might have been Return of the Living Dead or Near Dark or one of the myriad punk compilations I ravenously consumed in my pre-teen years...shit I think the first exposure of any sort I had to 'em was a poster on Christian Slater's wall in Gleaming the Cube), I was blown away. My parents were a unified front in never allowing me to purchase any of their tapes or discs when they took me to the record store but I made damn sure to head back out on my own, purchase and then hide those treasures well.
My column in the Daily Cougar, Stay Sick, was named after the first Cramps album I purchased and from them I learned to appreciate a lot of early rockabilly and country classics I might not have discovered otherwise. Those Songs We Taught the Cramps compilations you can find contain a wealth of awesome music to dig on. And even though they would be credited with the genre "psychobilly" Lux and Co. never felt that label truly described their music. However, they sure as shit set a standard all the slap-bass AFI wanna-be's will never near.
Live...they were always ferocious with Lux leading the way. The last time I saw the band perform he seemed to have never lost a step. Like a chicken-fried, high-heeled maniac he strut across the stage, fellating and draining multiple bottles of wine (note: this almost exact description which ran in my review is now you cannot use the term "fellate" at the Daily Cougar) while making you feel lethargic even though you were ragin' like no tomorrow.
To Poison Ivy, Lux's friends, family and fans, Please Kill Yourself offers their collective condolences.

The Boss Will Rape You in the Face

2009-02-02T10:27:00.006-06:00

Jesus titty fucking christ who put the benny's in Bruce's water before the Haltime Show? I kept expecting him to dislocate a hip or eat it face first after jumping on the piano. But, man, that crotch slide into the camera? What in the fuck was he thinking. I'm sure the guy on the recieving end of the Boss' goods is gonna be suing for getting tea bagged on national television even though you couldn't see the actual event taking place.

Heads Will Explode: Pink Eyes (Fucked Up) on Fox News

2009-01-28T17:05:00.005-06:00

The guy interviewing Damian is an annoying little douche. That said, he is proclaiming The Chemistry of Common Life the best album of '08 and the "most fully realized punk CD in years" (whatever the fuck that means) and the fact that he is doing that on Fox News means he will escape my ire...for now. He gets props for also not calling them "Effed Up." Aren't we all old enough to know they're just saying FUCK anyways?
Please somebody tip Bill O'Reily off to this interview so he can get all "culture warrior" on the band.

Dear Synth Players: Quit Being Boring (at Least on Stage)

2009-01-17T22:49:00.002-06:00

I don't know why the laziest members of bands (at least currently) have the least amount to do. I'm talking about this new pretentious dance trend going on and how the synth/keyboard players are the ones with the least to do and seemingly showing the least interest while on stage. What the fuck? Friday I met up with Dead and his boyfriend at some indie-dance show and was pretty shocked at the sheer dullness going on at stage left. Picture this: some chick with a ridiculous hipster hair-do that when tossed just so can either look like a fashion mullet or emo obsessed style. Either way, she is trying way too hard to be cool. Add to that the heroin chic body along with some overpriced faux-vintage re-sale dress and a constant look of utter disdain for what she was doing and you have your typical synth/keyboard player sucking the life out of whatever energy the front of her band is striving to relay to the not drunk enough audience. Pretty lame, right? Well at least I fucking think so. This whole sect of the non-mainstream, as my brother would describe it, the "indie-dance hipster scene" and their bands are built upon the person with the mic with commanding stage presence and nothing else. None of the bands that are heralded (Crystal Castles, Muscles, shit even Le Tigre) succeed live without a compelling presence at center stage. And it is that minor requirement that has allowed this scene to flourish so vibrantly. While a few of the bands that have spawned off countless, boring drones (Le Tigre, The Gossip before the went disco) have actual merit to their work most simply are there just to tour and derive an inflated ego from a false belief that they have imparted some art or insight on the audience. Last night was no different. Sorry, they were just there to dance. Von Iva were a fun live band simply because of their singer. She was sexy, had a terrific voice and worked the crowd into a frenzy but when you stripped the music of how it plays in a live setting, you're left with a CD you'd be pissed you spent your last fiver on over a beer at midnight. And the fact that they mined the primal, so base your stroke victim granny could've beat that shit into the ground drum beat for EVERY SONG made the initial lustre cast upon the group fade faster than the sheen on dogshit roasting on the sidewalk. The point is, most of these bands aren't even part of a passing fad. They are endemic of a party culture that is as throw away as the 80's Brit-pop spike. Good for MAYBE a single but on the whole just fun for a night. Sorry to get distracted with some music Nazism but the main crux of this rant was to be about the synth/keyboard players. First off, they're not really musicians. They just cue up whatever fucking track was pre-programmed in the pre-tour practice sessions and then strain to slightly press on one of their Hammond programmed keys. If they actually helped to compose the beats (which are mainly stolen), and work around that to deliver something unique it could be forgiven. But, that ain't the case. So, what you get is random ass hipster #1 who evokes the height of this years fashion trend and can capably not get too piss drunk before a performance to pretend like she/he ( is doing something that matters. Now, I am no insisting you get these plebeians to actually contribute to the band because their lack of skill and talent will surely wreck your 15 minute career. I just ask they act like they are fucking rocking while monitoring the tempo changes. Exhibit FUCKING A: This is Dragonforce. At no time should a metal band employ a keyboardist. I can delve into that statement another time but for now you're just gonna have to trust me. These D & D lovin' lads didn't but let's take a look at the result:
Dragonforce - Through The Fire And Flames

Did you see that shit? He is easily the most useless member of that band and he obviously knows it. How can I tell? Because the son of a bitch is head banging harder than any of the dudes shredding scales. And that is exactly what he should be doing. This bull with tits knows that he is within an inch of his life with the band and if he just goes all Viv Savage he won't get his Rock Band residuals anymore. Maybe this is an extreme example because he is a superfluous member of the band who actually has something to lose but I think you get the point. If this cat can go the fuck off all of the pilled out hipster cunts whose instrumentation is nothing more than pressing a button can certainly liven things up on stage. And if that is too difficult, just give up. At life.
For fucks sakes I've seen record player player's (aka DJ's) with more enthusiasm.

R.I.P. Ron Asheton

2009-01-10T00:40:00.005-06:00

Sorry this is a few days late but I've actually been social this week. Ron Asheton was a fucking phenomenal guitarist. And for you writing purists out there who are saying, "Hey, man! You can't make a fucking statement like that without qualifying it and going on for paragraphs specifically describing how he was, "phenomenal!" FUNHOUSE. There. One word, one album title. THAT should shut you the fuck up. And if it doesn't? Well, shit! I'm glad I wasn't born with your puny ears or that Evander Holyfield brain you are sportin' right now, cockstain!
I know there are a lot of chunkheads out their that like to blow guys who can shred scales with one hand (and yet the Ventures never cross their mind and Dick Dale is only forced upon their guitarist worship vernacular because of Pulp Fiction) who will bitch about that statement. So, go and fuck yourself with a Freddy Krueger glove. Maybe innovating an instrument and its sound is more important than wanking off up and down the neck like it's your two inch cock? Yeah, I think so. Steve Vai can eat a bag of dicks. The Asheton brilliance comes from the utterly primal, ID-induced, caveman-like nature of his guitar riffs. And I can think of no better example of his scuzzed out sonic assault on the senses than this tune. R.I.P., brother.

I'm on Vacation

2009-01-05T21:41:00.003-06:00

Maybe, there will be some new shit posted. I'm working on a couple of things right now (and plotting a PRINT return of Please Kill Yourself) but this is probably how I will be spending my week of vacation. Sorry, I go off.

Jay Debauchery's Top 10 Albums of 2008

2008-12-29T11:11:00.004-06:00

There could have been a lot more shoegazer pop on this list (Magnetic Fields, Blood on the Wallz) as well as some discs I got in '07 that didn't come out til this year. I encourage you to at least LISTEN to all of these and maybe you'll find some new kind of kick. For everyone that said this was an off year in music I say, fuck off. There were a slew of great records that didn't make this list (it was so god damned hard not to put Gentlemen Jesse in this collection). And if you put Girl Talk in your list you need to slit your throat.
10. Wavves - S/T CS I just heard this band (actually one man named Nathan Williams) a few weeks ago and it seriously rocked my va-jay-jay. This dude probably kicked in his amp with a pair of steel toed boots before recording some of the most luscious California beach pop I've heard in a long time. The layers of noise washed over the hooks and melodies are absolutely essential to the beauty of the tunes. Plus, Mr. Williams has a righteous 80's era skater cut right out of Thrasher. And not in an ironic manner.
There is no YouTube video I can put here so just check out the tracks here.
9. The Night Marchers - See You in Magic John Reis can do no wrong. Except for breaking up the Hot Snakes and Sultans in the same year. And just after he put the only rock 'n' roll band EVER allowed to use horns (Rocket from the Crypt) to bed. He soothed my wounds with the Night Marchers which was a little more caustic ("I Wanna Deadbeat You", "Open Your Legs") than I was expecting. They kill live, also. It's not RFTC, but I'll take a John Reis band over 75% of music any day.
8. Lords of Altamont - The Altamont Sin So, they pick up the bassist from the MC5, sound more stoned than usual and take their sweet fucking time to deliver one hell of a record. I should punish them for that but how can I when they consistently kick out the jams this fierce? 1%er, fuzzed out, Farfisa drenched, down and dirty rock 'n' roll. I love everything Jake Calvaliere has ever been involved with but the Lords of Altamont easily take the cake. Sorry, Bomboras.
Lords of Altamont

7. Harlem - Free Drugs I despise 99% of bands from Austin for a multitude of reasons but these cats are brilliant. They pilfer from the Pixies, 13th Floor Elevators and Nuggets era garage rock for a truly excellent album that is impossible to resist putting on repeat. Just check out "South of France" and tell me you're not hooked. They got moved up on the list simply for titling a song "Psychedellic Titties."

6. MGMT - Oracular Spectacular The way I described it to a co-worker when it first got thrown into the rotation at work was what the Happy Mondays second album would've been if they binged on acid instead of crack. I stand by that. A great psychedellic electro-pop album that is in no way pretentious or hipster fodder. It's far to busy waving middle fingers to the subculture and stealing Madonna beats (seriously, "Electic Feel" owes its life to "Lucky Star") to be considering a brooding work of contemplative overload. These kids are just having a blast with infectious dance music.
MGMT-TimeToPretend

5. The Raveonettes - Lust, Lust, Lust Take the shoegazer cannon of the Jesus and Mary Chain and My Bloody Valentine, strip out all of the distortion and swap out the Brian Wilson worship for Phil Spector girl groups and what you get is one of the more crucial European bands in recent memory. They just keep getting better.

4. The Baseball Project - Vol. 1: Frozen Ropes and Dying Quails Scratching your head at that title aren't ya? Well, you're not a baseball nerd then! I love baseball with all my heart, believe it to be a parable for life and this album more than evokes my passion for the game. It is literally dripping with unabashed love and devotion to America's passtime. Steve Wynn (the mastermind behind the criminally ignored Dream Syndicate) along with friends including Peter Buck (of R.E.M. fame) deliver a sixties style pop album that ranks this high simply for the song "Ted Fucking Williams." Here is the backstory for the song's title:
In the bullpen tonight Jim Pagliaroni was telling us how Ted Williams, when he was still playing, would psyche himself up for a game during batting practice, usually early practice before the fans or reporters got there.
He'd go into the cage, wave his bat at the pitcher and start screaming at the top of his voice, "My name is Ted fucking Williams and I'm the greatest hitter in baseball."
He'd swing and hit a line drive.
"Jesus H. Christ Himself couldn't get me out."
And he'd hit another.
Then he'd say, "Here comes Jim Bunning. Jim fucking Bunning and that little shit slider of his."
Wham!
"He doesn't really think he's gonna get me out with that shit."
Blam!
"I'm Ted fucking Williams."
Sock!

3. Flogging Molly - Float This doesn't have the barroom rousers that Swagger and Drunken Lullabies had but Dave King's lamentations on returning to Ireland amidst peace for the first time in his life have served his songwriting greatly. Not that he needed any help. There are a few writers that liked their more raw, punk stylings and punish the band for scaling back for the sake of...well, better songwriting. Bollocks to them. This is by far their finest album to date. They have now earned the crown as the new Pogues.

2. Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds - Dig! Lazarus! Dig! I'm on record (in print!) as saying that I would gladly grab ankles for Nick Cave. The man is a genius and this year the Bad Seeds new offering was easily my most anticipated record. They did not fail me in the least. In fact, this is the best record they've released since Murder Ballads and is just as snarky, fun and insane. Come on, the title track is a hillarious diatribe reimagining Lazarus' alternate experience on Earth as a bored, pissed off, resentfull junkie. Dig comes so close to topping the noisy, Stooges inspired and absolutely filthy Grinderman offshoot Cave and Ellis released last year. That really says a ton about the strength of this record.

1. Fucked Up - The Chemistry of Common Life Holy shit, I cannot believe the evolution of this band. For their first LP release (which was a collection of EP's and singles) they sounded like the second coming of Black Flag. Then Hidden World dropped and was incredibly challenging as the band grew to compose 5 minute hardcore epics layered with experimental instrumentation and layers and layers of guitar tracks. I never thought I would be so in love with a band this raw that lovingly embraced Pro Tools, with up to 70 tracks of instruments at a time!!!! but here we are. On The Chemistry of Common Life, Pink Eyes and crew (which includes Rachel Lee Cook's little brother) continue their fuck you to religion ("So what's the point of ever being born again?") and deconstruction of the state of modern man. Yes, a band named Fucked Up is that deep, that intelligent and still able to make you want to go off. I cannot believe how they have crossed over from hardcore heroes to indie snob delights. I understand it but it stills bugs me out. Shit, the mainstream music rags are fellating them at every chance and you know what...they deserve every bit of acclaim and praise they recieve. Fucked Up will go down as the greatest punk rock band of their generation. Mark my words.
Honorable Mentions: Henry Fiat's Open Sore - Mondo Blotto, Blood on the Wallz - Liferz, Okmoniks, Magnetic Fields - Distortion, Yuppie Pricks - Balls, Blacklisted - Heavier than Heaven, Lonlier than God, Gentlemen Jesse
THE BEST BAND I HEARD IN 2007 BUT DIDN'T FREAK OUT OVER TIL THIS YEAR GOES TO...
Clockcleaner. Babylon Rules is fucking phenomenal and they are the best thing out of Philadelphia right now. Totaly caustic and uncaring sounds of the Birthday Party meeting Big Black for drunken brawl.

Max Cargo Confirms the Cumshots Status as "Kings of Boner Rock"

2008-12-21T20:45:00.002-06:00

Maybe it's the holidays, maybe it's the fact that I'm spending the holidays in retail hell with the dregs of humanity or maybe it's just that time in my lunar cycle that I've been jamming the Cumshots a lot lately. While I'm at work, I get "Praying for Cancer" stuck in my head pretty often. Well, the first line at least. I'm not that narcissistic to claim the whole song as a mantra.
Anyhoo, frontman Max Cargo (also named "Norway's Sexiest Man" by Elle a few years back) has unleashed a new debauched diatribe about his testicles on the Cumshots website. And, while I might not agree with him about ladies and my child bearers, it's still a pretty epic and prolific statement on the purity and importance of repsecting the sperm factories.* Here's a snippet:
This first, and probably most important, lesson is for all you girls out there. During sex (god forbid), don't grab my balls. Got that ? Stay the fuck away from my balls. I can't emphasise this enough. Before even licking my balls you need to have earned the respect of the balls. This takes time. Serious time. Probably months of intense fucking, and even then you have to ask the owner (me) to ask the balls if it's ok. The balls will then talk to my penis who'll surly deny the request, but at least it's now in the system, and in a few months you MAY be allowed a short visit to planet scrotum.
Truly, breathtaking and so poetic. With all of the shit this band talks it's actually kind of funny to see that their singer has such exclusive standards for fucking.

As Xmasy as We're Gonna Get

2008-12-21T20:19:00.002-06:00

If you aren't familiar with the Yobs Christmas album you need to correct that shit pronto. The Yobs were the very filthy, very nasty and very awesome offshoot of the excellent British power-pop group the Boys ("First Time"). I tried to find a video for their rendition of "O Come All Ye Faithfull" which involves the heartwarming holiday tradition of tossing loads onto your gal's face but struck out. This will do just fine.

Veto! Motherfucking VETO!

2008-12-15T14:56:00.003-06:00

I'll save you my usual bitching about bands from the 60's and 70's who haven't done fuck all aside from a swing of reunion tours deciding the time is right to pick up where the sonically left off and hit the studio. The New York Dolls and Stooges are the best (worst?) examples of what can transpire if you consider yourselves as anything more than a nostalgia act and try to recapture the insanity and nihilism of your youth.
Add one more group to the list who DIDN'T GET THE FUCKING MEMO! From punknews.org:
The legendary Sex Pistols are again hinting at a new studio album. Bassist Glen Matlock spoke to The Quietus about a 2009 album: The Sex Pistols? We've done our bit this year…we'll meet again in the new year and see what we want to do. We were not recording a new album - I think that journalists are making it up, but you can never say never. We all got ideas between us. It's a double-edged sword if you do it not good as the original, and if you don't do it people want to know why - but it's up to us. We are the masters of our own destiny.
I think we can all agree that this is a fucking horrible idea. Like, maybe worse than, say Facebook: The Movie!. Or being raped in the face. Yeah, I would prefer that than the Sex Pistols recording anything ever again. Oh, and Glen, you don't control SHIT in that band. Remember, you were the only one who could play until McClaren and Rotten decided to chuck your ass for walking calamity that was Sid Vicious. We all know Mr. Lydon is the puppet master now since you can't pull a Velvet Revolver and have people care. But, seriously, stay the fuck away from music. Thanks, humanity.

Maybe THIS President will Listen to Jello

2008-12-13T14:16:00.002-06:00

Like most of the country, I too really dig Obama and the whole notion that radical change is still a viable possibility in this country. Especially after Colonel Clusterfuck's eight years of idiocy and criminality (and if you haven't been terrified enough about Cheney and Co.'s antics, pick up Jane Mayer's The Dark Side. It really gives you a frighteningly clear picture of the incompetence and corruption of the W. era) with the air of brutal doom lingering across America as we are seemingly about to sink into the abyss.
With things remaining stagnant in the worst way possible and with Col. still having another month to make one last, epic, fuck up, we ALL have a lot riding on Obama's success in the Oval Office. He also carries a great amount of expectations to follow through on the actualization of the change he eagerly promoted.
To keep him on point, Jello Biafra has written an open letter to the President Elect and it's pretty rockin'. Here's a quick excerpt:
National security means: • Everyone has a home. • Everyone has enough decent food to eat. • Everyone can drink the water without having to buy it in a bottle from Coke or Pepsi. • No one has to worry about getting their hand cut off at work or having their job outsourced overseas. • Everyone can be who they are without fear of being detained and tortured without trial. • Everyone can vote without fear, knowing their vote will be counted—accurately. • Every woman has the right to choose what to do with her own body. • Everyone has enough money for life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness. • Everyone, even if they don't have money, has the right to see a doctor if they're sick or hurt. In so many other countries this is a guaranteed human right by law.
Unlike a lot of other notable figures, (i.e. just about every fucking celebrity who campaigned for Obama and douche's like Fall Out Boy) Jello Biafra really knows his shit. A quick listen to your old Dead Kennedy's records and his spoken word performances will confirm this. And, like Jello, I really hope Obama takes this idea to heart: "Above all, be a leader, not a dealmaker. There are times when cutting a deal is the same as cutting and running. To put it mildly, we can't afford that anymore. There are no sails left to trim.

I Must be Drunk...I'm Kinda Siding with Axl on this One

2008-11-29T00:42:00.005-06:00

Now, don't think for a second that I enjoyed ANY bit of the decade-plus festering piece of shit that is called Chinese Democracy. Shit was weak and Axl needs to just give the fuck up. Or at least quit issuing utter garbage that would make Tay Zonday cringe under the name Guns 'N' Roses. It was way worse than Duff's cover of Johnny Thunders' "You Can't Put Your Arms Around a Memory" which is very impressive (remember the improv line, "Oh, Johnny. I wanna put MY arms around YOUR memory.")
From The Most God Awful Music Magazine in Existence:
According to Axl Rose’s lawyer, Alan S. Gutman, things went terribly wrong: Yesterday he sent a letter to Dr Pepper CEO Larry Young saying that the soda company’s Website crashed and that “the redemption scheme your company clumsily implemented for this offer was an unmitigated disaster which defrauded consumers and, in the eyes of vocal fans, ‘ruined’ the day of Chinese Democracy’s release”.
Really, dickhead? The worst part about that day was the fact that Axl finally released the fucking thing and confirmed that he is absolutely fucking daft. Really, the only bright point of the event was that we all could score a free Dr. Pepper and it sucks that the thirsty, cheap folks who got fucked by the website didn't get their soda. In reality, Axl should've given us all free hummers for making his fans wait 15 years for a dated, terrible and fucking boring album. I'd rather listen to the Jonas Brothers than suffer through Chinese Democracy one more time. And while we're on the subject of retribution, I hope somebody paid Chuck Klosterman a shitload of cash (or at least bought a gazillion copies of his novel) to write such a pussified, Rolling Stone-style review. How in the fuck do you even rate any of the songs on this aural abortion "astonishing?" I just don't see the logic in classifying a review of this very real item as akin to reviewing a "unicorn."
Oh, and hey, it gets better. This is how the letter concludes.
"Rest assured, this misappropriation will not be free.”
What? Are the labels trying to recoupt the loss on this fucking thing or does William need a few more hair-plug dread extensions and botox injections? Look, Dr. Pepper fucking up by not giving "everyone in America" a free can of soda is nothing to sue for damages over. Just make 'em pony up for all the bitching dipshits who can't spare 50 cents (I don't give a fuck what the economy is like now. If you can get online to bitch about a fucking freebie giveaway, you can afford your own damn can of pop) but leave the threatening bullshit out of it. Or at least, quit milking the incident to drum up publicity for an album 99% of the people who cared about have already heard and the rest of the world who just wanna jam Appetite for Destruction and nothing else.

Hell Motherfuckin' Yeah!

2008-11-18T22:11:00.002-06:00

Rob Neyer can eat a bag of dicks. No make that a bag of baby dicks.

Protest Prop 8 Tomorrow Downtown

2008-11-14T17:30:00.003-06:00

If you want a ban on gay marriage then fuck you. Seriously. Quit with this "sanctity of marriage" bullshit. If it can be nullified within a few days or because either party didn't put out in a specific amount of time or if you just feel like fucking someone else then it is not as sacred of an institution as many Americans would like to believe.
I'm not saying that all marriages end in disaster but if it were all so rosy and simple then family law wouldn't be a hell most people don't have the stomach or heart to deal with. There is a lot of ugly shit that happens in this realm of law that has many LSAT aces so unnerved by the whole scene as to vow never to go near it. That tells me a lot about how sacred Americans view their marriages. Sweet fucking Bog, just think about the fact that Carmen Electra married Dennis Rodman for like 2 hours and tell me that gay people shouldn't be afforded the same legal rights and benefits as those two nutsacks.
So, if you can, go out and protest the passage of Prop 8 and let the government and your fellow Americans know that the civil rights struggle did not end with the election of an African American president.
Since California passed prop 8 the country is having rallies this weekend to spread awareness on the issue.
Meet at City Hall 901 Bagby, Houston, TX Scheduled to begin at 12:30pm - Saturday, November 15. We will gather in Hermann Square which is right behind City Hall.
Maps and details at: .. Fight H8 Houston
We have secured all permits required for this event. Please bring signs and posters.

I LIVE for Schadenfreude. At Least When it Concerns Chubby Goth Twihard Fans!

2008-11-13T19:15:00.004-06:00

Oh man. I must have watched this video like 20 fucking times in a row. I'm not joking. And I found this while perusing Fangoria of all places? Look, Tony Timpone, I know your mag is really lagging in readership (Rue Morgue has been vastly superior to Fango since their first issue) and you have to cover whatever shit sandwich Lions Gate dumps out like its the second coming of Romero but...Twilight? Come the fuck on. The only reason I flip through your mag anymore on my lunch break is to see the spoiler gore shots and since you're gonna go ahead and jump on the tween gravy train I'm just gonna have to stop. That movie has about as much to do with the horror genre (I don't give a fuck if vampires are involved) as George W. does with Mensa.
Anyhoo, let's get back to matter at hand. Laughing at future Torrid shoppers who got fucked out of shooting their T.V. eye's on the star of what Film Drunk has dubbed Dawson's Crypt.

Wow, so your birthday is ruined because you didn't get to spend a nanosecond with some limey douche with stupid hair who is playing a FICTIONAL CHARACTER that gets your twat thumpin'? It's not like you were gonna hang out for half an hour whilst sipping latte's with the gent and discussing his craft and then he would whisk you away to recreate the "epic" (and by Bog, do I even feel sick typing that word despite the quotation marks) romance that has enthralled your pre-pubescent mind.
Oh, and what the fuck is up with the guy who punched his window out? They never really make it clear if he was there to get some shit signed, checking out underage gash or what. That probably made me laugh the hardest. Punching a fucking window out? It's not like Daniel-san just whooped up on the Cobra Kai you just missed out on some tween star scribbling on a t-shirt. Keep entertaining me like this Twihard fans and I'll keep the Hounds of Hell at bay a little longer.

This is Just Brilliant

2008-11-12T09:53:00.003-06:00

One of my favorite things to do when I need to put a smile on my face is checking out Rock N Roll Confidential's Hall of Douchebags. It's a collection of hillariously lame band photos with some brutal descriptions following the pictures.
Someone took a collection of high school Senior Portraits and posted them online and the selections are nothing short of epic. I just hope they add more than 16. Enjoy them for yourself HERE

My "Intelligent" Critique of Twilight...with Limited Cursing!

2008-11-11T21:10:00.004-06:00

"I don't disagree with you that Twilight is written horribly, and that the author is below average but do you really need to use such strong language? You could say the same insulting things in an entirely more intelligent and mature manner..." - Anonymous commenter from this post.
First of all, you are reading a blog that was born from a Xeroxed fanzine called PLEASE KILL YOURSELF written by a guy calling himself JAY DEBAUCHERY and you expect a Foucault level of couth in my discourse? Are you fucking kidding me? Shit, the slogan for this whole thing is "Jihad for Rock 'N' Roll Motherfuckers!" If you wanna read something without the cursing and horrible vindictiveness that we can all easily prescribe to our inner dialogue then stick to USA Today.
I'm assuming you did a Google search for Twilight and stumbled upon my lonely home on the internet. Thanks, for checking us out and I'm sorry you felt that my lack of discretion when it comes to expletives made you cringe.
I believe that writing is at its best when it's done honestly. No barriers, no cleaning up of the raw emotion that urges the typer to punch out their view of the world or version of the truth. And I also believe that anyone trying to tackle any wordy endeavor be it blog, print media (of which I have been paid to do) or just photo copying and passing out for free should write like they speak to everyone they end up conversing with in everyday life. In my case, sailors blush when I speak and I do end up censoring myself in certain situations (mainly work). But when it comes to my art, all reservations are checked at the door. I really don't care if anyone is personally upset about me calling Stephanie Meyer a cunt (she is one). What offends me is calling my ranting un-intellectual because of the crude manner in which I choose to convey my message.
In my initial post I commented on a trio of literary geniuses (Celine, Kerouac, Bukowski) in comparison to some shitty writer (look back up there, kids. Anonymous admits Meyer is weak) and despite my name dropping for cool points, I thought I made some very clear points about why the whole Twilight scene is lame. I'm sorry Anonymous couldn't see that through the usage of the word "fuck" every other sentence.
So, to satiate that commenter, let me reiterate my points as expressed in a previous post:
I believe that the Twilight series is a radically anti-feminist bit of schlock pulp that is written so poorly it might actually hinder our rational inclination to evolve intellectually. It tells women that they are only made strong by their man. That they can act as idiotic as possible but it's okay because their man will be there to save them. It also boasts (yes, I use that word purposely) that all a woman needs in her life is a man to be slavishly devoted to her and she should reciprocate those emotions and constantly risk her life and cede herself to his will. Oh, and squirting out a kid is the end all of their corporeal existence and that will truly satisfy them.
I had a customer today tell me that the above is all true but it's sometimes fun to indulge in the fantasy of the story. "Fantasy" is the key word here folks. And remember that Meyer is writing this whole mess from a strict Mormon background. Yes, she has managed to tie vampires (an already lame, lazy and overdone subgenre) filled with religious zeal. I told the customer that it was rather frightening to me that there was an entire generation of women (I would use "girls" here but...no. There are some insane Twilight mom's out there. Jeebus, help their offspring) who believe Bella's arc to be a parable for their life. She admitted that might be the case and strolled off. Wow.
A generation of women weakened by the pen and prescribed to be slaves to men. Thanks Stephanie Meyer.
And to Anonymous, was that fucking intellectual enough for ya?

John McCain Will Play This for Sarah Palin ala Say Anything Tonight

2008-11-04T16:15:00.002-06:00

If he picked Lieberman, it would've been a race. This dumb cunt tanked his campaign. Well, we should all thank him for that.

This is What 100 Years of Suffering Will Do to Somebody

2008-11-03T18:24:00.003-06:00

Whoah. Talk about loyalty there, sport. That tattoo is the equivalent of a Red Sox fan turning to the Evil Empire in case your not up on your baseball rivalries. As much joy and laughter as I get from that picture the fan in me still says, "Fucking' pussy."

Happy Halloween from Please Kill Yourself

2008-10-31T11:38:00.001-05:00

Stay sick out there ghouls and gals and some of us will probably see you at the Los Skarnales show at Fitz tonight.

Philadelphia Fans, Enjoy It

2008-10-30T10:57:00.002-05:00

Congrats to the Phillies and a nice fat FUCK YOU to all twelve Rays fans who are upset about the loss of the 2008 World Series. A double FUCK YOU to the bandwagon crew. Seriously, you are some obnoxious people.
It was nice to see Lidge get a ring and find some redemption and how about Eric "Cro-Magnon Man" Bruntlett proving to be a solid bench player. Oh, Michael Bourne, I love you more every day. Seriously, any Astros fan who knows their shit should be happy for those guys and not blame this supposed curse that finds good ballplayers sucking in Houston and then rocking the game when they get shipped off to another team. Lidge needed a change of scenery and well...I'll let his numbers speak for themselves.
But now, for the Phillies fans. Jesus titty fucking christ people! I've been reading the fan accounts from Deadspin this morning (my favorite so far is the video of a guy on a traffic light while the crowd pelts him with bottles) and you folks are pretty fucking nuts. But, hey the last team to win anything in Philadelphia was the one owned by Jon Bon Jovi so I guess it was a celebration of awesome drunkedness and destruction that was well earned.
However, none of you have SHIT on this dude who is also pictured up top.
GREEN MAN!

Dig, Brothers and Sisters, on the New Lords of Altamont Record

2008-10-22T17:56:00.004-05:00

This thing smokes. It's not Lords Have Mercy but it is sure as hell close. Wonderous fuzzed out guitars, the speaker blowing bass of Mike Davis (worship the MC5, children) and some killer Farfisa organ. The Altamont Sin is probably the most down and dirty, kick ass rock 'n' roll album out right now. The perfect soundtrack for a chickee run or a back alley knife fight or just a righteous record to watch old biker movies and get fucking blitzed on hash to. Either way, it rules.
Lords of Altamont "Gods&Monsters"

E3

2008-10-22T17:36:00.004-05:00

A funny thing happened on the way to the World Series for the unbeatable SAWX.

BUCKNERED!

Oh heroics happened for sure(Nancy!) but to no avail. The lowly and unheralded Rays of the city of Tampa defeated Debauchery's bffs, the Red Sox

Even though their all time record against the Rays entering the series was 119-68.

I may root for a perennial also ran.

I got nothing. Fuck you Jay!!

I hate you.

Good luck finding a new baseball team to root for, now that all your suffering with two world series in the last four years has ended.

I wonder what Manny is doing. He will look pretty good in pinstripes next year.

Scott Boras in '08

You Can Now Confirm For Yourselves That Axl Pissed Away 13 Years

2008-10-22T12:54:00.003-05:00

13 years...all that time, wasted. With men who wear KFC buckets and endless sessionists, production teams, scores of tracks thrown to the curb without care all funded by a fraction of what the bailout is costing the government (that stat might not be accurate, but you see the point I'm making here) and this...THIS, is what we are left with.
Chinese Democracy - Guns N Roses
And, by the way, in case you have the IQ of Sarah Palin and think this shit is decent enough to buy (to me, it's just unbearable. I'm gonna jam "Mr. Brownstone" 50 times in a row to cleanse my audio palete of this shit), you're gonna have to hit up a Best Buy. I guess Wal-Mart wasn't classy enough for genius of this caliber. Fuck you, Axl.

The Secret Life of Black Nathan

2008-10-22T12:41:00.004-05:00

In case the below isn't obvious enough, Black Nathan is a die-hard Vikings fan. He was born into it and it is the source for much of the pain he endures in life. In fact, he loves telling people (when he is at the height of his giant dickheadedness) that he wants everyone to be as miserable as he is BECAUSE he is a Vikings fan. That is devotion to your team, friends.
But what is most fascinating about his fandom is that whenever he ingests some tasty lutefisk he magically transforms into a batshit insane Canadian superfan named 100% Cheese Free. This is his/their story. And by the way, that ain't face paint. It's sunscreen.

My favorite line is at the end, "I wish everyone could experience this." Man, Nathan, that is some cold shit.
*expect a nice retaliation re: the Red Sox from Nathan should he feel it needed.

Lights Out Again...

2008-10-16T12:29:00.003-05:00

Sure he showed flashes of his old self, but there was no short porch in left and there was certainly no Pujols in the lineup to send him to the showers to be left crying in the fetal position.
He had to contend with a Dodgers team that had Manny on it though. A Manny that had revived a strugling west coast NL team that had aspirations of perhaps of making it to the fall classic that saw the dreams come true in the last few months of the season. The Dodgers came in hot.
The only problem is that the fighting Phils' came in even hotter. Hotter than McCain got in last night's debate hot. The pitching staff (hello Cole "new mancrush" Hamels,) single handidly shut down the late spark that Manny had given the team. Manny still put up Manny numbers, but it does not matter if it's Jesus H. Christ batting clean up if there is no one on base to "clean up" when you get a sacred dinger against that sold staff. When the Phils' are putting up five or six a game, his one or two longballs are moot.
So, congrats Brad. I never wanted to see you go. You were my guy. I defended your lapses in pitch placement. Your insistance in learning a new pitch to toss other than your searing fastball just so you could have something to throw them off with. I have been and always will be an Astros fan, Brad. That is my only fault. I will follow your entire career (even though you are a Fighting Irishman,) because I want you to succeed. I want you to succeed the same way I want that guy who used to be your set up man to succeed in Tampa. A Lidge / Wheeler World Series. Who'da thought that would ever happen?
See Brad, or Lights Out. Can I call you that, Lights Out? Ok.
See, you needed a change in scenery Lights. The reason why? Houston is a cronious franchise man. What have you done for us lately? Not even- more what did you do for me yesterday? We have an owner who's first concern is money. Making a profit and putting asses in the seats. The Roidket and AndyAndro did that. Roy does (or did,) that. Having you come out to your frat-ridden-rap-rock-agro-tune to put the nail in the coffins of many a batter put asses in the seats my friend. But see- to Dracula McClain- that was not enough. He wanted championchips by golly!
Pitching wins championships, yes. But- you have to have the bats to compliment the pitching. Any decent team in either league should be able to overcome what is considered a good outing by a starting pitcher. That's three runs. The Astros are notorious for leaving the population of Willis, Texas on base because they can not hit in the clutch. This starts the viscious cycle. Pitchers pitch, batters do not produce, pitchers get lit, bulpen gets used, pitchers wear down. Next thing you know... your closer is coming out in the middle of the seventh inning because the good ol' boy manager has run out of arms due to over pitching. (There is a reason Collins, Williams and Garner are not in the league anymore. Cecil should be soon to follow suit.)
You got out. Good for you, Brad. So you had an off season last year. It happens. God forbid we stick with someone for YEARS to see how they may or may not turn out. Oh wait- Assmas puts asses in the seats on personality alone. Fuck tallent! Well he is a career .220 hitter who USED to be able to block anything and throw a dude out in Denton. HE can't do that anymore. Well we can always just keep shipping fellas in their late 20's and early 30's back and forth between AAA and the club till they get it I guess. Meanwhile we can scour the league for tallent that was, and wring them dry of what little of it they may have left until they limp into retirement (or tell us they are so they can actually get out of town and go play for a contender.)
Congrats Brad. You are on a team of studs now. Howard, Utley, Rollins, Victorino... you got the bats. Eyre, Moyer, Hamels, YOU. They have the pitching. Good luck man. Maybe we'll seee you in a Houston uni again in 10-12 years when you are an aging starter who we feel might still have some ol' petrol left in the tank.
Go Phillies!!!
P.S. Don't get too pissed when you get back to Minute Maid next season and get boo'ed. Jonny Sixpack and Honkey Wife don't know no better. They are just jealous. You know if you get traded off against your will by the sheer ire of the assinine management or used as bait- it makes you the bad guy. Fuck 'em. They'll already be pissed there is a black president as it is...

Cruising Jay Debauchery

2008-10-14T00:13:00.004-05:00

After I closed the seasonal store tonight, I ask to grab a quick smoke and head outside the Galleria to sit on the benches outside the fancy steakhouse to ponder the stars (and lament the Red Sox loss to the Rays) when a man comes upon me. He appears to be in his late 40's/early 50's with short cropped grey hair, a flamboyant green flowered shirt with a bone white sport coat and brilliantly shined fancy loafers (hey, the Dead Kennedy has upped my knowledge on style). He stares at me for a few moments before saying, "I just saw a sillohuete here and low and behold there's a person!" His speech is slightly slurred and I let him know that I do, in fact exist (in some corporeal form, at least) and he starts his rap.
"I was just at Gigi's and I guess I must be some real V.I.P. cause I got my tab comped.EVERYTHING! Food, drinks...vodka, by the way. The whole enchilada!"
Immediately, I realise, this guy is smitten with me. Don't think I'm being egotistical here. I've been hit on by a bunch of guys but have never seen the sparkle and immense look of hopefull coital copulance that protruded from this man's glazzies. And hey, the story ain't over yet so I can still prove to you this guy wanted a piece of my pasty Mick ass.
I tell him how awesome it is that he gets to dine fancy and get loaded for free and compliment the cuisine at Gigi's (it's pretty meh, in truth). He continues to boast his meal and service and then begins to tell me he might be a little to drunk to drive home. Baiting.
I continue to pull long drags off my Camel Light, just wanting to get out of the situation. Like I said, I don't give a fuck who hits on me or what baggage their packing, I just wanted to build cancer in peace and clear my head. He didn't get the hint via my silence.
"It would be a shame if I got into a wreck and died," is how he laboriously continued our tepid verbal exchange. I nodded and peered at the valets. They know me, we're cool and I was hoping one of them would break up this sad, desperate courting.
"See, I own my own company and if I go it all goes!" He began to get more animated and I continued my sulk. Hoping just to be left alone.
"You must be an IT guy, huh?" was his next query.
"No," I replied, "I'm retail."
This didn't register. He continued on about his amazing freedom as the head honcho of a freewheeling furniture company off of Kirby and then handed me his card. The company was called Ligne Roset and his name is Bruce Wolfe.
I politely thanked him for the card and he went on about how he wanted people to buy new modern "shit" instead of old "shit" and wanted people to have fresh, contemporary and stylish looks for their homes instead of wallowing in old "shit" styled decoration. I nodded, took another drag and stared off into the night. He still didn't get the hint and went for his Hail Mary.
"Shit, I hope I can drive home. I mean, I only live in River Oaks and it's not too far but I don't wanna get pulled over. Just jump in my Roadster and head out down Westheimer and just get home to my bed. Wait...is Westheimer gonna have more cops now or is Richmond? I only have to get to Weslayen but, my company goes down if I get pulled over."
At this point Bruce asked if he could take a seat next to me and I obliged. He crossed his legs with his right pointed towards me and made sure his arm was behind my back on the bench. He continued to boast about all the free food and booze he got just for being an important furniture salesmen. It was almost like he was bragging about being the gay man's Matress Mac.
Another long silence came about and then my smoke burned furiously down to the tar. I thanked Bruce for the conversation and told him I had to get back to work. He started to inquire about my personal life but broke his sentence mid-way and just said, "Ciao. Use the card," as I got up to head back to the store.

What the Fuck Ever: No One Cares, Axl

2008-10-12T22:08:00.002-05:00

This is probably just another phantom release date, no doubt. Axl's never gonna release the fucking album and is anyone even anticipating it at this point? Music has moved beyond you, you ginger hair plug sportin' douche. But, for those who might feel a slight penile/clitoral twinge of excitement as positive G 'N' R news, here ya go. From Billboard.com:
More than a decade after its conception, Guns N’ Roses’ “Chinese Democracy” will finally see the light of day before year’s end, sources close to the situation confirms to Billboard. As first reported here, the set will be a Best Buy exclusive and will be available Sunday, Nov. 23, rather than the usual Tuesday.
Whoopdy fucking doo! A decade long clusterfuck might finally see the light of day right around Black Friday. People, let's give up the "Chinese Democracy" ghost. We've got a better chance of finding some lost Lennon demos than we do of hearing this hyped to death, futile and utterly meaningless record. Things have changed a bunch in music over the last decade and Axl Rose never screamed "timeless songwriter," especially when left to his own narcissistic desires. I love "Appetite for Destruction" but let's just admit it's a very dated album. It ain't "Pet Sounds" or "Astral Weeks." This is classic Phyrric Defeat via rock 'n' roll on display.
Oh, and why the fuck is this supposed release a Best Buy exclusive? Way to go, shit for brains. You jail people for leaking the disc, knowing some sad, Aqua Net loving motherfuckers are desperate to hear a 30 second iTunes snippet and eliminate a majority of the market? The Eagles pulled this shit last year and while they raked in cash, believe me, there were plenty of people who didn't feel like the trek to Wal-Mart was worth it (by the way, what happened to your whole Walden fetish, Henley? Fuck yourself).
Axl, I wrote this a few years ago and it pains me to have to write it again: go back to shooting heroin and punching supermodels or else just hang out with your emu's, bro.

Buy Fucked Up's New Album

2008-10-11T11:18:00.003-05:00

Fucked Up is seriously one of the best bands on the planet and their new album, The Chemistry of Common Life, just cements their legacy of brilliance. Buy it now and thank me later. Actually, you should already be into them since I blogged about them a while back.
The international press seems to be taking notice too since Father Damian graces the cover of this month's NME. Yeah, that mag is weak but at least they are covering a Canadian band instead of sucking off some UK wank job (as is the norm). Get on the train, kids.
MTV Canada decided to invite them back again but chose the studio bathroom as the venue this time. I guess they figured Fucked Up and their fans wouldn't destroy anything if in a confined space. The band agreed and decided to wreck the bathroom anyway. Awesome. Why is it MTV Canada broadcasts bands like this and in the U.S. the channel awards Brittany Spears for being a hillbilly fucktard?

Cornbreadd: Making H-Town Shine on YouTube

2008-10-11T11:17:00.000-05:00

Bye, Bye, Backe

2008-10-06T16:15:00.003-05:00

The Astros, more often than not, tend to emphasize character over talent. Think I'm full of shit? Then give me one strategic reason why, say, Ausmus has been with the team this long. And no, pitcher comfort levels don't mean shit.
Even moreso, they love to bring in hometown players no matter how shitty the currently perform (see: Woody Williams).
Which brings us to Brandon Backe. The kid is from Galveston and threw the only solid outing in the Astros lone World Series appearance but has since become less reliable than Wandy (who is only in the big leagues because he is a lefty). Stop your internal dialogue with regards to Tommy John surgery, please. Let's remember Andy Pettitte (although, the roids might've had something to do with it) is still going strong and doing better than anyone could have expected. Backe is only on this team because of his ties to Houston. Drayton and Wade won't admit it, but it's true. Now, they come to a crossroads. Do they project their "good guys" image or show this bum the door after he brawled with cops at a wedding?
From WTAG.com
The incident started at the resort's swimming pool bar. A guest shoved a police officer after the officer told him he could not bring an open container of alcohol into the area, and the incident escalated into a riot after the man -- and others -- refused to comply with the officer's commands, police said.
At one point, police told Backe to back off but police said Backe struggled with officers instead -- exchange blows to the face with one officer.
Look, I know some people who went to high school with Backe and they told me he rode the short bus. After witnessing him talking to a bat that seems to be true. They said if it weren't for baseball, he'd be mopping the Texaco bathroom between Giddings and Austin. On the one hand, I dig the competitive fire and a pitcher who doesn't think (hey, it can only hurt the ballclub) but when you can't find the fucking strike zone...hey, the Astros could always go the Rick Ankiel route, but I doubt that would still make Backe a valuable major league commodity.
If Uncle Drayton is reading this, bro, this is your out. Take fucking advantage of it and send Backe packing.

Some Helpful Guidelines to the Galleria Shoppers

2008-10-06T16:08:00.003-05:00

Kids and Leashes
If you don’t want me to treat little Timmy like the ravenous animal that he is then don’t put him on a fucking leash. I don’t give a shit if it doubles as a backpack for his blanky, juice box and mashed naners, it demeans both of you. So please don’t get offended when I come upon Timmy destroying the kids section in my store, roll up a newspaper, smack him on his cute little button nose and shout “NO!” It is still miles beyond your parenting skills. After all, you’re off in the corner flipping through Life and Style, French Women Don’t Get Fat and The Secret. The kid already has no shot.
And let’s be honest here, the only reason you have the leash in the first place is so you can publicly admit your failure to control and watch over your child. I put my dog on a leash in public so she can’t run up on people and play in traffic. Your kid is leashed so he doesn’t follow the old man with candy and get fondled in the food court bathroom while you’re deciding which kind of dipping sauce you want with your Wetzel Pretzel. Congratulations, mom and dad, you have successfully begun raising a pet that can talk back. And you wonder why the future is bleak? On the other hand, I do enjoy when the brat sprints off at top speed and gets yanked back, busts his ass and starts bawling while you stare in confusion.
Walkways
Yeah, this should be an obvious one. You know, ways you walk through. It’s right there in the fucking word! But, that is just too confusing for most people. It’s great that you and 20 of your friends decided to aimlessly wander about this monument to consumerism but could you at least show some fucking recognition of your fellow drones but keeping the walkways clear? It’s almost impossible to keep your group together but can you at least clear space for everyone trying to get by instead of blocking one side of the aisle like a defensive line of dumbasses? Or how about we trust that the rest of the group can safely exit the escalator without clumping around its end so it doesn’t turn into 610 traffic jam? The other day I was walking from the store to the seasonal business with a hammer and seriously considered using it just so it wouldn’t take me 30 minutes to walk 10 feet. Sure, it would’ve taken the same amount of time to beat sense into all of your thick skulls but at least I would’ve felt better.
Cell Phone Usage
If you have time to spend browsing shops and cruising the food court for apathetic ass you do not need to be wearing a fucking Bluetooth. For some reason, I get the feeling that if this is what you occupy your weekends with you’re not going to get an emergency buzz calling you in for surgery or that the board has called a crisis meeting due to the economic downfall. You are just some jackass who wants to look important but comes off as a total douche. The Ed Hardy shirt gave it away, bro.Oh and double fuck off to the people who wear TWO Bluetooth sets, looking like some fucking alien. Unless you are balancing a stripper and your 401K simultaneously (hey, in these times, it actually is understandable) see above.
And can we please stay out of the bookstore when you get that important call about your long distance service or your fantasy football status? The bookstore is a quiet place and we don’t need you bitching about drafting Brady in the first round at the top of your lungs or using the walkie talkie device to find out what your friends or relatives are buying for Susie down at the Disney Store. Just dial the fucking person and have a complete conversation without all those annoying chips and static laden responses. It’s simpler and really will make all of our lives a little more pleasant.
Oh, one more thing. Whoever invented the function that allows you to blare mp3’s and radio via phone needs to be disemboweled with a rusty hook. Seriously, fuck that guy. And fuck the people who gleefully embrace the technology even more. You are inconsiderate, moronic, mouth breathing shit stains who incorrectly assume we all wanna hear Lil Wayne as you lethargically browse the skin and tattoo mags. First of all, the sound quality is terrible. Guitar Wolf records sound like fucking Phil Spector productions by comparison. Second, I’m sure there is headphone jack on the device so why do you have to share with us your unique and discerning musical tastes by forcing “Lollipop” on my ears for the billionth time. No one thinks your cool for doing so and until a dance party breaks out, cut that shit out.

Curse My Ass

2008-10-03T13:05:00.006-05:00

Hey Cubs fans! Newsflash: YOU ARE NOT CURSED. Let me say that again (Biden-esque,) YOU ARE NOT CURSED.
Your team cannot perform under pressure. That's all. You are not capable of positive production offensively, and apparently your infielders can't play fundamental hit, catch, and throw baseball when in a pinch and need to get out of an inning. Your two stud aces have a knack for walking runners in a time of needing to retire the side and the coaching staff cannot seem to rally and focus the team away from the inevitable ESPN 360 degree coverage of the potential choke that you will no doubt succumb to and blame on a cat, goat, or ill seated fan.
There is no curse. You just have a B+ squad in the A+ division of the National League. You got lucky this year. Best record? I'll hand you that. Congrats. But it does not mean anything when the second season starts up. As evident by the the Brewers, Angels and you guys.
You guys? You are the lovable losers for Christ's sake. Your postseason drought is only 20 years more than the Indians. Shit. Given life expectancy, you all are in the same boat. Get over yourself. The Red Sox were thought to be cursed too. Guess what? They just started going dollar for dollar with the Yanks and look what it got em. Now their fans are just as arrogant and obnoxious as Yankee fans (Ed note: I hope I'm excluded from that broad brushstroke). Except they act like they have ALWAYS been this good.
It was a good post season for you guys. While it lasted. At least you still have the Bears and Bulls...

Jermaine Dupre (In His Own Mind, "The Boss") FINALLY Earns Some Street Cred

2008-09-29T21:54:00.002-05:00

Kudos to you brother. We can revisit 8Bit's rodeo drunken insanity and not even come close to the level of awesomeness you have achieved. Shit, I've done worse sober (that is not to denote that I was not imbibing alcohol at the time) and I sure as shit have experienced my share of sadly hillarious maladies mid-coitous post-boozing. But...damn. Dig on this.
From the NY Post:
JERMAINE Dupri had a little too much of a good time celebrating his 36th birthday. The other night, Dupri and his squeeze, Janet Jackson, went to Tenjune, where, spies say, they shared bottles of Jay-Z's Ace of Spades Champagne and Patrón tequila with Ne-Yo, Busta Rhymes and Ice-T - until Dupri "vomited in Janet's lap. Ms. Jackson bolted out of the scene and sped off in her chauffeured Maybach." A rep for Jackson and Dupri didn't return calls. A rep for Tenjune declined to comment. Meanwhile, we hear Dupri is under some stress at work. The head of urban music for Island/Def Jam put out his lady's last album, "Discipline," which flopped. Our insider said, "[IDJ head] L.A. Reid had wanted to make changes to the album, make it fresher with some newer artists added in, but Janet said no - and Jermaine backed her up. He looks silly right now."
Yeah, he looks "silly" because no one has given a fuck about Janet Jackson since Rhythm Nation when her tit wasn't making unexpected appearances during the Super Bowl. Not because he drank some shit champagne (bro, you should've stuck with Korbel if you didn't have to act like you were an expert on good taste) and some funky tequila then puked on the lap of Michael's sister.
Is this all just a little too absurd for anyone else?

How I Will Remember Yankee Stadium

2008-09-21T10:13:00.001-05:00

Ike Brought His Pimp Hand Down HARD on Houston like Her Name was Tina Turner...

2008-09-16T18:58:00.003-05:00

...but, we are all now soul survivors.

The Band That Made Me Declare Pro Tools a "Necessary Evil"

2008-09-08T19:32:00.002-05:00

Well, at least when it comes to these knobs. Jesus titty fucking christ, what horrible parents to blindly encourage their children's attempt at creative expression without counseling them on the merits of talent. Fuck, the Kids of Whitney High have got their shit more together than these mouth breathers. The singer sounds like the bastard offspring of J Mascis sans shredding skills.
There is a bright side here, folks. When these twats enter high school they are guaranteed no girlfriends. They will never live this shit down. This means no potential for cursing the planet by spreading their seeds of sucktitude into a dupable chicks unsuspecting womb of complacency and low standards.

Cinematic Proof That New Jersey is the Breeding Ground for Douchebags

2008-09-07T20:19:00.002-05:00

Me and Black Nathan got into an argument about which state with the highest per capita douchebags. I said, NJ and he said Cali.
The Ginger's pick makes sense because they have been at the forefront of legislating healthy living (choke on your broccoli smoothie, cocksuckers), Sean Penn resides there and they elected the Terminator as Governor.
I'm sticking with good 'ol New Jersey for the sheer Guido factor. And if you think I don't like Italians, you're dead wrong. My former boss, who I love to fucking death, is straight from Tuscany and his son rules as well. We all agree that the Jersey Ital faction that has only grown in strength since the Sopranos is a very serious detriment to American society. The last few months I was at the deli, when some asshole would ask for "moozadell," (these were proud Jersey natives) I wouldn't even reach for the mozzarella and would just stare blankly. Way to garble and destroy your own linguistic heritage. Jag-offs.
So, to further cement my opinion as truth I present you with...GUIDO BEACH

See more funny videos at Funny or Die

This is Not a Joke: Thank You Twihard Fans!

2008-09-05T16:26:00.002-05:00

Sometimes, we all win.
Stephanie Meyer, the tween Mormon vampire teen queen whose Twilight series is radically anti-feminist and illogical (check the archives for more full rant on this bitch), is already so tired of having to come up with new stories and characters that she decided to re-write Twilight from another character's point of view. Yawn.
What faith she must have in her skills as a storyteller after her lastest book was loathed by her fans and her grown up book was a best seller but didn't set anyones pants on fire and surely didn't convince any that she is anything but an attrocious writer. Like I've said in the past, popularity and sales don't equal quality. Hitler had almost an entire nation down with his prose and was a positive thing in the end? Didn't think so.
While working on this lazy re-tread it turns out the thing got leaked. Meh. But, oh wait...what is this?
I think it is important for everybody to understand that what happened was a huge violation of my rights as an author, not to mention me as a human being.
Okay, this whole violation as an author thing really is a bunch of bullshit. Everyone who would want to read your poorly written vamp-romance for 12 year old goth chicks already knows what the fuck is going to happen in the book. It's not a big deal to re-write it from another character's perspective because the exact same fucking events and results will occur once again.
Now, for this whole human rights violation? Fuck you, move to China and then cry to me. Oh and by the way, I really hope someone does truly violate you as a human being. That is lightest form of penance I can prescribe to you after encouraging a generation of girls to be slaves to their dreamboats and that despite certain risks (hey, you did touch on death as a real consequence in your books) it is all gonna be okay and it will all be worth it cause you got your hunk!
And how about another nugget of wisdom:
I'd rather my fans not read this version of Midnight Sun. It was only an incomplete draft; the writing is messy and flawed and full of mistakes. Honey, that describes your writing in its PUBLISHED and EDITED form. Don't think this is anything personal, okay? Even shittons of Twihard fans openly admit she is a lously writer.
And it is them I would like to thank today for making sure this cunt can't profit anymore off of this Suzy Homemaker with vampires bullshit. For that, I give you a days head start before I unleash the hounds.

Vomit, Feces, Assholes...So, How Was Your Labor Day?

2008-09-05T13:21:00.003-05:00

So, Labor Day, the store was open for super short hours (10-7) due to the Galleria closing and all was going well until about 3 p.m. when the entire fucking world decided to go shopping. I just don't understand the psychology of people who get holiday's off and say to themselves, "Jeez, the weather sure is great but how 'bout instead of doing something productive or just, ya know, enjoying life, why don't we go to the mall for 4 hours and blow endless amounts of cash that most retail workers would kill for!" It just makes no sense. Is it really that awesome to spend your extra day off rocking the bedazzled Ed Hardy t-shirt, fresh tribal ink, and Diddy approved 80's shades?
Once the clusterfuck that is humanity swarms into the store a few problems arise. First, one of my female co-workers alerts us that she will be off the floor for a bit since while she was using the bathroom, she noticed someone in the stall next to hers was squirting shit out on the side of the rim and it was slowly oozing down to the ground. Shockingly, the lady...no wait, fuck that...person with pussy, decided to try to wipe up her mooky stinks but ended up smearing shit allover the floor. Look, I've had to clean up piles up shit NEXT to the toilet but that's the mensroom. It makes sense. It's totally stupid, but still, I can understand some mongoloid douche hanging his buttcheeks over the rim and dropping bombs on the floor. Sadly, I can understand that. But, a woman, in mid-shit, with waste running over the bowl, squirting through her cheeks is just baffling. First, why wouldn't you stop, reposition your asshole and then continue with your business?
After that mess, I got to join in the fun.
A little boy and his family come racing into the store, and the little butterball pukes allover the floor and the stairs. Not the tiled floor, mind you, but the carpet. This troupe of fucktards then marches junior to the bathroom and wouldn't ya know, momma is cleaning of this kids kicks after he cleans himself up. It would be such a shame if juniors Nike's had vomit stains on them, after all.
I am charged with the task of cleaning up the mess so I grab the sawdust, broom and brace myself for agony. While sweeping up this revolting pile of human waste the family walks by. I give them the stare of death. Mommy and Daddy aren't trying their best to avoid eye contact but junior is giving me a look of total remorse. He really seemed to want to say, "Sorry, mister" but of course Daddy looked over at him and said, "Don't look at him, son." I continue the stare of death and thank them for their patronage with as much sarcasm as I can muster and they skulk away with some pissed off looks on their faces.
Now, being able to get back onto the floor, I notice that the kind, lazy, dickwads who mistake the store for a library have left half the inventory in scattered piles like little landmines of utter contempt for the employees. And the kids section? Like an A-bomb went off. So, while trying to put the store back together (seriously, even during the Christmas season, I've never seen the store so thrashed) I am constantly interrupted with customers asking for college textbooks.
Here, I'm gonna give you a little insider information about this which should make my total hatred of such questions completely understandable. You can NEVER find college textbooks at ANY retailer. Why? Well, that's simple. Professors get a stipend at the end of each semester if all of the books they have the university order for their classes get sold. It's a scam, it's evil and it sucks but it's also something hard to believe 95% of collegiates don't know. Even something as simple as, say, War and Peace, the prof will track down an out of print, random ass edition just to make sure they get their bonus.
This confuses EVERY SINGLE motherfucker I explain this to. Then, I proceed with a more polite version of this: "Look, we don't carry Democracy in America Through the 70-74, 27th Edition, because we can't guarantee that a bunch of lazy, cheap ass motherfuckers will come in and buy it. Also, we buy shit directly from publishers and a $2,000 investment then marked up to $3,500 would probably not look too good if we sent them all back because you didn't get a cheap enough price on it. After all, textbooks do cost a shitload of money and if you're not willing to pay for the book, even if used, then why the fuck are you paying for the course?"
I've gotten so sick of these questions and phone calls (oh yes, lots of them) that I don't even bother looking up the book unless the customer presses for it. When they frustratingly ask, "Can you just check" and I tell them, "We don't have it but we might be able to order it and it is $125 and will be here in 7 days" they respond, "Oh, well, I need it tonight."
WHAT THE FUCK! You know where you can get the goddamned book RIGHT THE FUCK NOW and you chose to go to ass opposite end of town with nothing but hope in your hearts. You all suck and god help us if you breed.
Finally, some humor finds its way into my day.
A little fat kid, I notice, is hanging around the self help section. This is a cunts hair away from all the sex books, including the insanely popular to broswe but never bought Ultimate Big Penis Book. I let everyone know about the butterball because he sure as shit ain't fucked up and desperate enough to seek counsel from Dr. Phil. Five minutes later, he's inching closer to the titty and cock tomes and is cautiously looking around to make sure no one sees him. I just grab a stool, sit in front of the section and stare at him. Eventually, he walks away, with a very sad expression on his face and leaves the store. 20 minutes later he's back and I just stay in the sex section fucking around. He walks away with another frowny face. 15 minutes later, he returns but this time I'm taken away by a customer. When I return, he is reaching for the Ultimate Big Penis Book when I tell him to get lost. I think it was for the best. I mean, if he had looked at that book like it was an representation of average cocks I belive he would've grown up with quite the inferiority complex.
Then, everything goes to hell again. The phone rings and the woman on the other end wants to speak to a manager. I ask for her name and what this is regarding and she pauses and rather rudely says, "I'm someone who frequents your bathrooms." Right then, I want to drop the call.
You see, there are restrooms allover the mall but every other store tells customers that we have a bathroom. Technically, it is for customers only but a few people got upset when we told them that it is for customers only. So, a lot of horrible things occasionally happen in the stalls but we get way more complaints over bullshit. Like paper being on the floor. I'm serious. I can't tell you how many times a woman has come up to me and said, "I just wanted to let you know that your bathroom is disgusting. Just revolting. I couldn't even use it I was so sickened." And it's usually just a paper towel lying next to the waste basket. In fact, I want to wear a sign around my neck that reads: If your are going to tell me about the state of our bathrooms and they are not out of toilet paper or towels, have no fluids on the floor, wall or ceiling, everything is working properly, and your problem is a piece of paper on the floor then GO FUCK YOURSELF! Dictated, not read.
After a manager takes the call it turns out that one of our lovely homeless regulars has been coming out of the stalls and eating her shit in front of people and then casually washing her hands. Awesome.
At last, it's fifteen minutes til closing and I start making the announcements over the PA. Like roaches when the lights turn on the clusterfuck of humanity scatters in a mad dash to buy all they can the registers look like lines at the DMV. We struggle, but manage to put humpty dumpty back together and it looks like we're gonna skate outta the store 10 minutes after 7.
Closing time for the mall happens and I immediately run to the entrance and block it off with carts of books. This doesn't stop people from trying to come in. Usually, we stay open a couple hours after everything in the mall shuts down so people who can't think of anything more to do with their free time than shop like zombies waltz in, grab stacks of magazines and hang out til we kick them out.
A crowd of 20 deep starts their mongo trek towards me and I tell them we're closed, no, I can't just let YOU in to find a book, yes, we close when the mall does today, no, you can't use the bathroom, sorry, we're closed, no, I can't take two seconds to look that up for you because WE...ARE...CLOSED. GO THE FUCK HOME!
It turns out, the only thing separating the staff from freedom is some fat cunt looking for books on some obscure diet. She won't leave until we find at least one more book so she can finally see her feet again. It doesn't happen and she comes to check out and remarks, "Wow, you guys are really strict about your closing time, huh?"
"Well, right now we're not allowed overtime and there are a few things we have to take care that can happen only after everyone leaves. Plus, the Galleria is also very strict about closing on holidays. Oh, and by the way, did I mention it's a holiday and everyone working would love to go hang out with their friends and family instead of being here today?"
I hand her her change, she gives me a menacing look, obviously insulted because I don't give a fuck about her fat ass and slowly walks out.
Hope your Labor Day was as pleasant as mine!

John McCain is a Bitch

2008-09-03T01:15:00.002-05:00

Sorry for being so dormant, few readers. Trust me, there will be plenty of fun (for you at least) posts coming up here but let's start with something simple: roasting McCain for one of the dumbest fucking moves in political history. This is up there with Dukasis posing in that tank looking like a fucking turtle.
So, since the shitstorm that has reigned over the GOP since McCain named Sarah Palin as his VP nom, he's been on the vicious defensive. Fortunately, for him, he's got a bunch of shit grinned (I promised myself I wouldn't go partisan, here) yes-person (HA! I showed PC restraint!) pundits sipping the Kool Aid while he has given only tepid response to the torrent of controversies surrounding his suposed Golden Girl (this is not an age attack. Actually, it kinda fits. Oscar De La Hoya was the "Golden Boy" and then the whole cross dressing thing happened. FUCK! I just contributed something witty to pop-culture!).
He was primed to go on Larry King, I believe, tonight. I write this because I saw it on the CNN ticker last night but has pulled out (sanctity of life issue?) due to this bitch slap of an interview with a top aide. Enjoy.
Well, here is a direct link the article that made me just wretch. And the McCain campaign said it was, "over the line." WHAT THE FUCK? CNN is one of the pussiest news channels on the planet and all they did was press for some sort of solid info some sort of qualification to Mr. Maverick's arguments and lost. Big time. Great, dickheads. Go on over to Fox News where Hanity will say, "Y'know, Sarah, knowing you will provide for your unwed teenage daughter and her suposed husband, who, quote, is a Proud Fucking Redneck, and quote, doesn't want kids makes my party feel you will lead this country in the right direction. But, if you were a black woman, man I'd be hollering about welfare and government cheese 'til November! I at least hope, that when little Bristol is in a panic attack over all that has happened good ol' Rush will be there with some Oxycontin! GO AMERICA!"

Rock Me Sexy Jesus

2008-07-31T11:23:00.002-05:00

Let's start planning the drunken opening night screening of Hamlet 2 right now. Me and Black Nathan wasted. And you. Early August, people. Steve Coogan's crotch grab is inspired.

On this Tween Mormon Vampire Bullshit Fad

2008-07-30T00:38:00.005-05:00

I really hope Stephanie Meyers gets cancer. No, that is not a joke. There is no punchline there. I wish nothing but ill fate on the bitch and hope her and her shitty teen fiction lame ass writings (note: before I ever call another writer out, I at least graze their shit to see if there is any potential. I've been more than fair with this cunt and she is worse than James Frey) will go away forever.
But, that exposes the fallacy of hope. It's nothing more than a penny dropped in the mall fountain and will remain in that state until some bum scoops it up or nature takes its course.
When I first started slinging self help and bestseller novels about 9 months ago, I still had some bit of faith in the reading habits of America. I can't figure out why but I always thought that human beings would actually read, in general, for substance or understanding instead of just trash novel reads on vacation. Sure, those would obviously be included in the diet but I had naively believed that avid readers balanced out the bacon with spinach. I was so fucking wrong.
I could continue that tangent well into eternity (if you even ask me to look at The Last Lecture, fuck you. The inevitability of death is not a unique experience. Even when it is premature. There has to be some heavy narcissim dwelling deep inside you to feel the need to tell everyone else who doesn't know when they'll shove off how to live and what to prioritize. Fuck you for feeling like the only expert on the subject. And for profiting off of the damaged human beings clinging to the last thread of hope that their dreams will come true if they only pursue them. They probably won't and "living everyday to the fullest" and other such Hallmark dribble is only going to hinder their enjoyment of existence with blind faith in miracles) but instead will lend my current frustrations to the teen lit resurgance that has even adult authors like James Patterson and Nick Hornby (et tu, music nazi?) joining the frey. Fuck, even Dr. Frank from the Mr. T. Experience is horning in on the racket.
It's easy to say that Harry Potter was the first big bang in this universe. And it's probably right. College students at Ivy League universities fucking pretend to play Quidditch for christ's sakes. It's not like the genre had ever been without depth or merit (The Outsiders, The Wave, Roal Dahl, etc.), rather, it had just never been the sure shot it has now become. There will always be sales for Louise Sachar books but no one past 10 will be reading them. That is what J.K. Rowling accomplished. And now, the genre is pot-bellied with authors who generally work in adult realms (et tu, music nazi?) simply because it is a fucking goldmine. Enter Stephanie Meyers who is now being hailed as the next Rowling.
There are multiple problems with this assesment. First, Rowling was a struggling single mom who was living off the government before she got uber-rich. Meyers daddy was a fucking CFO. And, hey, I'm no Potter fan or anything, but there is actual depth and real life implications to the series of novels. Rowling wrote from personal, jubilliant and painful experiences whereas the Tween Mormon Vamp Queen had a dream and decided to type it all out. While she was a stay at home mom in a palacial estate. And while Rowling has a tendency to become very distracted at times, at least she can write. Meyer can barely punch out vacant teen dialogue into her iMac. Seriously, the bitch is that bad.
Now, I can excuse and ignore bad writers. Have you ever heard me rant about Clive Cussler or Danielle Steele? My problem is with PRETENTIOUS bad writers. Those who feel they have actually contributed something valuable to the world by doling out trash. Lisi Harrison's Clique series is pretty much Sex and the City for girls who just got their period but you never hear her talk about the struggle to create, the intense depth of her stories (probably, because she knows there is none) and the unique ability to type shit out and have it printed on paper. Meyer does all that and so much more. My favorite quote, "If you say, 'I"m gonna write a novel,' you never will. You just have to sit down and write it." Great insight, cunt. However, some of us can't stay at home all day and dream up high school fantasies out of boredom and have the time and financial resources to devote to finding some schmuck to publish the fucking thing. Celine was never offered that luxury, neither was Kerouac or Bukowski. They all had to balance art with meticulous, soul crushing brain dead work and while they may have pissed away their considerable talents on booze and excess, they were still able to write circles around your overprivelaged ass.
The video interviews we play on TV at work are so mind numbingly dull, self-infatuated bullshit, over explained horse shit it makes me wonder how people don't pick up on how lame her whole scene really is. After all, it is nothing but a Harlequin romance novel for 14 year old girls without the fucking. It just so happens to factor in vampires and werewolves to spice it up, and make seem not so bland, is my guess.
And the most frustrating thing about it all is Meyer's lack of respect for the mythology of the creatures she is writing about. Look, vamps are a sad, tired sub-genre on the horror scene (zombies are next) but if you're going to utilize the group at least follow the rules. In the Twilight universe, vampires can walk around in the sun and only glisten. What the fuck? Oh, and the good ones eat animals not people and blah blah blah. It's just too retarded to type out.
Pop culture fads come and go and this one might head into the realm of the forgotten as well, but something tells me that just ain't so. Aside from the undeserving celbrity, wealth and accolades handed to a talentless hack it serves another blow to people actually trying to make art or literature mean something. Or at least offer a little more insight into the human condition away from youthful lustings. I'm more angered and disgusted with the whole Twilight phenomenom that Miley Cyrus (oh yeah, that rant is coming) thing because tween music is an obvious sell. Getting kids to read for fun is a lot more difficult. Well, the whole teen lit shabang has changed that but just because a kid is reading is not enough to justify the trash they consume. We offer our kids McDonald's, they get addicted, become obese and die early. Introduce something like lobster or even fucking a quiche from La Maddeline and their tounge gets curious. It wants to experience more of the awesome flavors coating the receptors. It yearns for and experience like the first that awakened their dormant senses. The kid learns to try more, experience all it can in order to replicate that initial, awesome encounter. The brain, and moreover, literature have the same impact. All Meyer has done is force more health threatening, non-nutritional, grade-Z circus meat down our throats.
Will the next Joyce, Acker or Hemmingway be spawned from the Twilight series? Likely not. And we are all the worse off because of it.

8Bit Knocked My Sister Up. REJOICE!

2008-07-26T22:45:00.002-05:00

First off, I would've posted this info a few days ago but a power surger fucked my motherboard and I've been disconnected from the online world since Wednesday. I actually read a book and jerked off using only my imagination!
Anyhoo, I get off work and head to my locker to grab my backpack and clock out, check my phone and see a text message from my sister in my inbox and open it. It reads: "Be sure to tell the Dead Kennedy he can come on Saturday. Oh, and I'm pregnant!"
My instincts allow me to do one thing. Yell, "HOLY SHIT!" at the top of my lungs resulting in my fellow employees rushing to the break room to see if I am alright. Oh yes, I am.
I'm gonna be an uncle but more important, 8Bit is gonna be a dad. And A. Bitch (Chris, this was to be her pen name when she was gonna write for the zine so don't get raw) is gonna be a mom. Black Nathan has already said he will write a plea to 8Bit to not allow myself or my father to turn the kid into a Yanks or Sox fan. I could really care less right now since I'm so stoked to be an uncle. Even more stoked that my family will be welcoming another life into the clan.
This rules even more than A-Rod getting drilled in the wrist by the Red Sox today.
I wish the kid and the parents all the best and can only promise one thing for the still developing fetus:
1. You will not share my sister's musical taste. 8Bit will probably back me on this. The Indigo Girls fucking suck. We're gonna pump some Flogging Molly and Dropkick Murphys via headphone over my sis's gut!
Congratulations to two of the most important people in my life. Now when the grandparents start beefing on who gets to lavish attention on the kid the most, I'm stepping back. It's gonna be like the wedding trip and the near arm-wrestling challenge duels over who was picking up the bill except a child is involved this time. To quote Will Smith, "Shit just got real."

Oh, Lord, No! The Children Will Never Get to Experience the SUCK in Person!

2008-07-07T20:53:00.004-05:00

There are times when you know Hollywood is really bankrupt for ideas. Don't look to latching onto the manga craze, graphic novel hype or even the horror remake train for signs of the creative apocalypse. Shit those two dushbags (see earlier Clemens post for clarification) who churn out the (Blank) Movie debacles every few months don't even begin to scratch the surface.
Nope, my friends, it's ABBA. Yes, that ABBA. And while I would like to blame Sweden as a whole for this one, my undying love for the Hellacopters precludes that. So, awhile back these Eurovision pop star contest winners (think 70's disco American Idol) penned a musical called "Mamma Mia!" and the coked up pre-Patrick Bateman's of the world ate it up. And then Robert Palmer happened and ABBA faded away only to (fuck, I'm just speculating here because I step back from this whole piece I realize the utter ridiculousness of it all) ride the nostalgia wave when Ace of Base taught a new generation that Swedish dance music sucked balls.
Now, we have a cinematic adaptation of the musical on the horizon and it looks like The Killers have finally gotten their wish: disco shall roar back. Wow.
You have to realize how fucking long and insane of a process it is to not just get a film made but to get off the ground at all, no matter what the existing fanbase or rights statuses are. Pitch meetings, director meetings, screenwriter meetings, script drafts, approvals, re-writes, casting, territorial pissings, more re-writes, casting shuffles, pre-marketing hype, and scores of other tasks before there is even a fucking start date for principal photography. Let's forget about post, and filming...a motherfucking ABBA musical got through all that bureaucratic bullshit with a massive budget over...fuck...I dunno, ANYTHING!
It's not like an error this egregious hasn't happened before. Remember Xanadu? If you didn't have an older sister obsessed with Olivia Newton John after Grease then I will refresh. OLJ as a Greek muse sent to inspire Swan from the Warriors at a roller disco, with Gene Kelly presumably making a pre-death cash grab for this estate set to some of the most horrendous 80's music known to man. Hey, if you're a sadist there's a deluxe DVD of the fucker out there now. Just knowing that haunts my dreams.
Still, we get a silver lining in this tomb filled with shit.
From the UK Telegraph:
In an interview with the Sunday Telegraph Bjorn Ulvaeus and Benny Andersson, who wrote most of the group’s hits, said there was nothing that could entice them back on stage.
“We will never appear on stage again,” says Ulvaeus. “There is simply no motivation to re-group. Money is not a factor and we would like people to remember us as we were."
I'd like to remeber that Lester Bangs never wore an ABBA shirt. Oh, and "Waterloo."

Happy 4th of July from Please Kill Yourself

2008-07-04T17:09:00.001-05:00

On the Eve Before July 4th, THIS Will Make You Proud to Be an American

2008-07-03T16:02:00.004-05:00

Look, I've got nothing against middle-aged cross-dressing pop stars. I, for one, think Gary Glitter doing a tour with Hannah Montana would be nothing short of exhilirating. But, Boy George? Really, people? Has our nostalgia for the shitty pop anthemns of our youth led us to actually caring about experiencing "Do You Really Want to Hurt Me?" with similar, disaffected, mired in mid-life crisis, losers? Thankfully, good ol' Uncle Sam stepped in to save you all from blowing 100 bucks at the local mid-level venue.
From CNN.com
The Culture Club singer, whose given name is George O'Dowd, has canceled his summer plans after U.S. authorities denied him a visa to enter the country.
O'Dowd, 47, had planned to officially kick off his 25-city tour in Aspen, Colo., on July 10, and was to throw in a free concert at the New York City Department of Sanitation's Family Day in August. He worked for the department in 2006 while performing court-ordered community service in a drug case.
That didn't appear possible, though, when last week O'Dowd's managers issued a statement saying he had been refused a visa because he's awaiting trial in London on charges that he falsely imprisoned a man. The Sun newspaper reported in April that a 28-year-old man claimed he was chained and threatened at O'Dowd's London flat, where he had gone to work as a photo model.
America! FUCK YEAH! Wait, what the fuck was that? He chained some dude up in a (assumedly) S & M torture dungeon? Whoah! Maybe he and Gary need to hit the road together instead! The chronicles of that debauchery would be epic. And maybe, just for old times sake, Boy George could stop by to fuck Gavin Rossdale in front of Gwen Steffani while "Holla Back Girl" is playing in the background. Sweet titty fucking christ, I think I just wrote David Lynch's next movie! Shit. I just gotta figure out how to wedge in a midget and a Kyle MacLachlan ass shot in there.
Seriously, if there is anyone who was from the UK, came to prominence in the 80's and like crossing genders I could give two shits about if they toured again, it would be Genesis P. Orridge. That shit needs to happen.

Jay Debauchery Finally Has Career Ambitions

2008-07-03T15:49:00.003-05:00

Yeah, I've delivered pizzas, booked shows, worked security, tended bar, ran a deli, served food to ungratefull fat fucks, schlepped beer up and down stairways, occasionally have been paid to write, sold snacks at a swim club, sold books and cd's to Euro-trash douchebags along with scores of other meaningless, menial jobs. I like to think if I had saved every piece of apparrel from my jobs I'd have a nice little bulletin board like Wanye Campbell.
But, now, I have realized what I truly want to commit my life to. Help me reach this dream, brothers and sisters!