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

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?

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

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

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

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

New York Post Solicits Headlines from 12 Year Olds

"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.