SONG OF THE DAY: RELOADED

Turbonegro - "A Dazzling Display of Talent"

Oh my what a dazzling display
Oh my what a dazzling display
Of talent that's what they say
Would you believe it
My goodness HEY

Take a look around
I'm so impressed
Of everything they do
Do it again and again alright
I can't believe my eyes
It's unbelievable
In the middle of the show
They make the fluids flow
Take it away

Du geile Sau

Oh my what a dazzling display
Oh my what a dazzling display
Of assholes that's what I say
Would you believe it
My goodness HEY

Look around
Oh so impressed
Of all the things they do
Do it again and again alright
I can't believe my eyes
It's unbelievable
Give me what I know
Make the fluids flow
That's what I know
Come on, let's go
And make the fluids flow

Can you smell it ?
It's stinking yellow

Oi Oi Oi

I'm so impressed ... TALENT!

CASH MONEY

Got my Oklahoma state income tax rebate back today. Look at it and weep, bitches:

Yeah, that four whole dollars, you poor bastards. American dollars. I am now officially Rick James, bitch.

THIS STUFF'S MADE IN NEW YORK CITY!

NEW YORK CITY!?

SIZZLE OF THE DIZZLE (song of the day, whitey)

Dick Delicious and the Tasty Testicles - "Masturbating for a Brighter Tomorrow"

What do you do if you want to prevent a rape?
You go down to the store, you rent yourself a porno tape
What do you do if you want to prevent AIDS?
You whack upon your dick, you smack upon your ding-a-long
Till it needs Band-Aids

And you'll be masturbating for a brighter tomorrow
and it will free the world from disease and sorrow
as long as you've got your dick in your hand
you've got your best friend (oh oh)
And you'll always know who will be there in the end

What do you do if you want to stop HIV?
You leave the whore at the bar, and whack your way to safety
And what do you do, if you don't want to knock that ho up?
(C'mon you guys, i know you know this one)
And how do you keep from waking up
Next to some ugly slut?

And you'll be masturbating for a brighter tomorrow
and it will free the world from disease and sorrow
as long as you've got your dick in your hand
you've got your best friend (oh oh)
And you'll always know who will be there in the end

I sit eating tacos some times
Thinking it all might end (oh no)
As long as you've got your gland in your hand
You've got your best friend

Back on Track

Slowly but surely, things are getting back to some version of normal. After four months of non-payment while I was living with hell-roommate, I finally had enough excess dough to pay $160-something in past-due student loans. And after Thursday, I can plop down the same amount and finally get caught up. So instead of blowing all my money supporting a burned-out fake lesbian, now, I'm blowing all my money paying for a year at Ole Miss in 1998, where I learned absolutely nothing that I can recall at this time.

Good times.

THY INFERNAL SONG OF THE DAY

Jerry Reed - "Amos Moses"

Well Amos Moses was a Cajun,
He lived by himself in the swamp.
He hunted alligators for a livin,
He just knocked 'em in the head with a stump.
The Louisiana law gonna get ya Amos
It ain't legal hunting alligators down in the swamp, boy

Well everybody blames his old man,
For makin' him mean as a snake,
When Amos Moses was a boy
His daddy would use him for alligator bait.
Tie a rope around his neck, and throw him in the swamp,
Alligator bit him in a Louisiana bayou

About 45 minutes southeast of Thibodeaux, Louisiana
Lived a man named Doc Milsap and his pretty wife Hanna
They raised up a son who could eat up his weight in groceries,
Named him after a man of the cloth,
Called him Amos Moses

Well, the folks around south Louisiana
Said Amos was a hell of a man
He could trap the biggest, the meanest alligator
And just use one hand
That's all he's got left cause an alligator bit him
Left arm gone clean up to the elbow

Well the sheriff caught wind that Amos
Was in the swamp huntin' alligator skins
So he snuck in the swamp, gonna getcha boy,
But he never come out again.
Well, I wonder where the Louisiana sheriff went to?
You can sure get lost in a Louisiana bayou!

About 45 minutes southeast of Thibodeaux, Louisiana
Lived a man named Doc Milsap and his pretty wife Hanna
They raised a son who could eat up his weight in groceries,
Named him after a man of the cloth,
Called him Amos Moses

SIZZONG OF THE DIZZAY

Now, the world don't move to the beat of just one drum,
What might be right for you, may not be right for some.
A man is born, he's a man of means.
Then along come two, they got nothing but their jeans.

But they got, Diff'rent Strokes.
It takes, Diff'rent Strokes.
It takes, Diff'rent Strokes to move the world.

Everybody's got a special kind of story
Everybody finds a way to shine,
It don't matter that you got not alot
So what,
They'll have theirs, and you'll have yours, and I'll have mine.
And together we'll be fine....

Because it takes, Diff'rent Strokes to move the world.
Yes it does.
It takes, Diff'rent Strokes to move the world.

"No, seriously, that's me."

Here's a tale of either a misunderstood practical joke, or one of the classic cases of dumbassery, ever. It's one thing to claim to be a different guy when the cops pull you over if you kinda look like the but another thing to do that when... Well, just look at the pictures:

No, seriously, officer. I really am this guy:


Good job there, buddy.

HEFTY SONG O' THE DAY

Vaginal Discharge - "Fat Farm Orgy"

So I gave this fat farm a try
Now I feel like I'm gonna die
Running laps on the track
Hoping I don't have a heart attack
But if I go, I'd rather go having sex
LOTS OF SEX!

C'mon, baby, we're both big tubs of lard
Let's get all the others and fuck in the yard

We'll have a fat farm orgy
Like the Summer of Love with cellulite
Fat farm orgy
Fat rolls flapping in the sunlight
Fat farm orgy
Big fat asses everywhere
Fat farm orgy
Let all the trainers stop and stare

I DON'T CARE!

We came here to lose weight
Resign ourselves to a hellish fate
Swimming laps in the pool
Sauna baths and plates of gruel
But I know something that burns more calories
THAN ANY OF THESE!

C'mon, baby, we're both big tubs of lard
Let's get all the others and fuck in the yard

We'll have a fat farm orgy
Like the Summer of Love with cellulite
Fat farm orgy
Fat rolls flapping in the sunlight
Fat farm orgy
Big fat asses everywhere
Fat farm orgy
Let all the trainers stop and stare

I DON'T CARE!

Life goes on

I've spent all day packing my stuff up for the imminent move out of here, but a minute ago, I decided to take a little break. I laid down on the bed and just kind of relaxed, when the cat ran up and jumped on my chest. It was pretty cool, since she's uisually the crazy, bite-you-for-no-reason kind of cat, and this time she was just all sweet and nice. I rubbed her and petted her and for once, I finally managed to have a tender moment between me and my cat.


And then, the globe fell off the cieling fan and clocked me right in the nuts.

Short, Bald, Australian Song O' the Day

Rose Tattoo - "Nice Boys"

She hit town a rose in bloom
Smell the sweet, sweet perfume
The color faded and the petals died
Down in the city no one cried

And in the streets the garbage lies
Protected by a million flies
With roaches so big they got bones
They moved in and made themselves at home

I say nice boys... don't play rock'n'roll
Nice boys... don't play rock'n'roll
I'm not a nice boy!

Sweet sixteen she was fresh and clean
Wanted so bad to be part of the scene
She met the man and she did the smack
And now, she pays the price layin' down on her back

Want so bad just to please the boys
Ended up bein' just a toy
Played so hard burned her life away
Lies were told no promises made

Nice boys... don't play rock'n'roll
Nice boys... don't play rock'n'roll
I'm not a nice boy... and I never was

Young and fresh when she hit town
Hot for kicks just to get around
And now she lays in a filthy room
She kills the pain with a flick and a spoon

And in the streets the garbage lies
protected by a million flies
With roaches so big they got bones
They moved in and made themselves at home

Nice boys... don't play rock'n'roll
Nice boys... don't play rock'n'roll
Nice boys... don't play rock'n'roll
Nice boys... don't play rock'n'roll
Nice boys... don't play rock'n'roll
Nice boys... don't play rock'n'roll
Nice boys... don't play rock'n'roll
Nice boys... they never play rock'n'roll

Thy Infernal SONG O' THE DAY

Crashing through the night
Comes a fearful cry
Cobra! Cobra! Cobra! Cobra!
Armies of the night
Evil taking flight
Cobra! Cobra! Cobra! Cobra!

No where to run
No where to hide
Panic spreading far and wide
Who can turn the tide?

GI Joe- A real American hero
Yo Joe!
GI Joe is there

GI Joe- A real American hero
GI Joe is there
Fighting for freedom
Wherever there's trouble
over land and sea and air
GI Joe is there

Can the world oppose
Deadliest of foes?
Cobra! Cobra! Cobra! Cobra!
Joes will risk it all
To end the evil call of
Cobra! Cobra! Cobra! Cobra!
They never give up
They never say die
Walking tall with banners high
They sound the battle cry-
Yo Joe! Yo Joe!

GI Joe- A real American hero
GI Joe will dare
GI Joe- A real American hero
GI Joe is there

Fighting for freedom
Wherever there's trouble
over land and sea and air
GI Joe is there

GI Joe is the codename for American's daring, highly trained
special mission force.
It's purpose, to defend human freedom against Cobra-
a ruthless, terrorist organization determined to rule the world.

GI Joe- A real American hero
GI Joe will dare
GI Joe- A real American hero
GI Joe is there
Fighting for freedom
Wherever there's trouble
over land and sea and air
GI Joe is there
Cobra! Retreat! Retreat!

GI Joe- A real American hero
GI Joe is there
GI Joe

OH, FUCK THIS GUY.

*sigh* Now, this is probably why why people hate convervatives. Via Blabbermouth, this piece of filth was posted on the small-time conservative website, The Iconoclast: AESTHETICS OF HATE: R.I.P. DIMEBAG ABBOTT, & GOOD RIDDANCE
Here's a sample. read the rest and try not to throw a brick through your monitor:

"It was highly amusing, and also terribly sad, to watch on television fans conducting a "vigil" for the slain Mr. Abbott outside of the Alrosa Villa. It was an assemblage of ignorant, semi-human barbarians who were filthy in attire and manner, intellectually incoherent and above all else, hideously ugly to the point of physical deformity. Here is a definite case in which the outer appearance of these "fans" accurately represented the hideousness of their souls. That the physical deformity of their ugliness was self-inflicted makes the spiritual tragedy of their misspent lives all the more tragic.

But one can see why the heavy metal fans so closely identified with Mr. Abbott. He was an ignorant, barbaric, untalented possessor of a guitar and large amplifier system. Freakish in appearance, more simian than human, he was the performer of a type of "entertainment" that can be likened only to a gorilla on PCP. Lacking subtlety, wit, style, emotional range and anything approaching even the smallest iota of intellectual or musical interest, Mr. Abbott was part of a generation that has confused sputum with art and involuntary reflex actions with emotion."

Here's the email I sent the guy, which probably won't be read, after he gets sick of all the "FUCKK U PUSSY PANTERA IS STRONGER THAN ALL DIMEBAG 4EVER!!!!1!1!!!1" emails he's probably getting from the Blabbermouth crowd:

I'll try to keep this relatively short, since your inbox is probably getting flooded right now, and it might not get read, anyway. But anyway, your article was one of the most ignorant, classless things I've ever read. Did you bother to actually research the subject, or did you just skim a news story, and think, "Hmm. Heavy metal... Drug reference in name... Must have been a horrible person who deserved to die"? Whether or not you liked his chosen style of music, what he looked like, or whatever illegal substances the man chose to partake of is no reason to write him off as no big loss. Stripping away all of that, all you have left is a kind-hearted, devoted husband whose main goal in life was to entertain people and make them happy. This isn't exactly violent criminal we're talking about here. And as for the incident itself, the shooter, Nathan Gale, was completely insane, regardless of what music he listened to. If he had been an ex-florist and a Mary Chapin-Carpenter fan, instead of an ex-Marine and Pantera fan, he probably would have ended up trying to run on stage and shoot Mary Chapin-Carpenter. Saying Darrell asked for what happened to him by playing heavy metal is along the same lines of saying Phil Hartman got what he deserved for being a comedic actor.

I can only draw one of two possible conclusions from all of this. The first is that you were just trying to stir people up on the internet, like some sort of ultra-sophisticated message board troll. If so, good job. I'm sure you're enjoying giggling at all the profanity-laced emails typed in all caps that you're getting right now. The other possible conclusion is that you are an elitist of the worst kind, the type that makes all the liberals point and say, "see, they're all like that. Vote Nader!" You're doing more harm than good.

Oh, and by the way... Dimebag Darrell was a pretty hardcore conservative and staunch Bush supporter.

I'll let you know if it gets any sort of response.

Neat.

A few minutes ago, I decided to call it a night, but right as I was heading over to turn the light off, the dog started squeaking, which is his signal that he needs to take a leak. So I'm all bummed, seeing as I was all ready to pass out, and I slip on some flip-flops, put Ike's collar on him, and take him outside. He's sniffing around this one spot for a while, looking for just the right spot to take a vicious dump, when for some reason, I decide to look up at the sky. This is rare for me, as usually I just kind of shiver, tell the dog to hurry up, (as though he understands English) and keep an eye out for that dog that tried to rip his throat out a little while back. So anyway, I'm kinda star-gazing, trying to make out all the constellations I know how to make out, and getting all stumped on one clump of stars that I knew was a constellation, but I couldn't remember which one. I think it was Scorpio, but I need to look it up. So I'm just staring up there for a while, while the dog discharges his payload, and all of a sudden, out of nowhere, I see a shooting star. What makes this even more awesome, is that it's the first one I've ever seen, and to the best of my knowledge, there wasn't an expected meteor shower or anything tonight. Just a random little streak across the sky that I wouldn't have seen if I hadn't taken the dog out right when I did and if I hadn't been staring at the sky in just that spot when I did. Neat. Sometimes, in between eviction notices and dead guitar heroes, life finds weird ways of being awesome.

Meanwhile...

In some other heavy metal-related news that's (rightfully) been lost in the shuffle in the last few days, Anal Cunt frontman (and guy so legendary for being a total prick that it's the reason people love him) Seth Putnam has emerged from his two-month coma.
Reports that he immediately called his doctor a "dumb stupid fag" and busted a pee-bag over his head are so far unsubstantiated.

Later, Dude.

I posted this on Sac's site a minute ago, and it kinda summed everything up for me well enough for me to copy and paste it here. So here you go:

I won't try and erase the shit I've said over the years or retroactively change any opinions I might have had. I didn't really care for Damageplan, I didn't like anything Pantera did before or after Cowboys From Hell and Vulgar Display of Power, and you can throw in an Exhorder reference here somewhere. But all that aside, no one can ever deny that Dimebag Darrell was one of the baddest motherfuckers ever, as far as guitar goes. There are a lot of really good guitar players, but not a whole helluva lot where you can hear a solo and immediately know who it is, even if it's a song you've never heard before by a band other than their normal one. I can't tell the Dave Mustaine solos apart from the Chris Poland or Marty Friedman ones, and all those guys who make livings more off their sheer guitar-wankery than what band they're in or what their songs sound like (Vai, Satriani, Malmsteen, etc.) all kinda blend together for me. But aside from maybe Jimi Hendrix, Darrell was the only guy where I could hear something like an Anthrax song he guest-starred on, and without reading any liner notes or anything, go, "hey, that's a Dimebag Darrell solo." Someone like that doesn't come along very often.

But honestly, who gives a fuck about bands or guitar solos or whatever. The big, goofy, Texan fucker I saw swapping joking insults with Billy Milano on that S.O.D. video, the guy whose dream was to have "Cowboys From Hell" being played when the Dallas Cowboys came out on the field, and the guy who I've never heard anyone honestly say anything about isn't around anymore. And he's gone for no fucking reason. And that SUCKS.


1966-2004

In happier news

I ate Hamburger Helper with ground beef last night instead of ground turkey for the first time in months last night, and now my farts smell kinda like steak.

HOLY FUCKING SHIT.

COLUMBUS, Ohio -- At least five people died and two others were wounded after a shooting at a Columbus nightclub on Wednesday night, NBC 4 reported.

The shooting took place shortly after 10 p.m. at Alrosa Villa, located at 5055 Sinclair Road.

Two members of the heavy metal band Damageplan were reportedly shot and killed, including Dimebag Darrell, formerly with the band Pantera, NBC 4's David Wayne reported. The other band member's name was not released. The alleged gunman also died at the scene, Wayne reported.

Shortly after the band began playing its first song, a man reportedly ran onto the stage and began shooting, according to a witness who identified himself as Sean. Some members of the audience reportedly thought the man running onto the stage with a gun was part of the band's act, NBC 4's Erin Tate reported.

Witnesses said that several shots were fired at the band. Witnesses said that a bouncer at the club tackled the alleged gunman before that person was shot and killed. It was unclear as to whom shot the alleged gunman.

NBC 4 reported that of the surviving victims, one person was in critical condition while the other was in fair condition. Several others were treated at the scene, suffering from various injuries.

Alrosa Villa is a popular north Columbus nightspot for young adults, featuring rock and heavy metal bands, NBC 4 reported.

According to the band's Web site, Damageplan was touring nationally. It performed in Buffalo, N.Y., on Tuesday night and had a concert scheduled in Flint, Mich., on Thursday.

Damageplan featured former Pantera artists Dimebag Darrell and Vinnie Paul. The pair were joined by vocalist Patrick Lachman and bassist Bobzilla, according to their Web site.

This is not bullshit. Word on the street is that at least one other band member died too, with most saying it's Vinnie. Jesus fucking Christ. I'll be honest. I never liked Damageplan, and for the most part, I never was too big on Pantera. But this is fucking HORRIBLE. It's like the heavy metal equivalent of the John Lennon shooting, except with more victims. A lot of people seem to be bummed about no more Damageplan or no more possibility of a Pantera reunion. Well, fuck that. There's no more Darrell Lance Abbott, and his fucking brother might be dead too. I could care less about bands and reunions right now. Shit. I don't even know what to say here. If anyone's reading this thing, I'll pass along an update when more news comes along.

1:16 AM - UPDATE: Here's some info from a guy who posts on a message board I frequent. Apparently, he knows a guy who's close to their manager: Darrell survived the shooting, but bled to death about an hour later. Five shots to the gut at point-blank range. Also, his personal security guard and a club bouncer were killed, and the dickhead who did the shooting was taken out by a cop on the scene. Also, a tour manager and Bobzilla were shot, but as of now, they're alive. I can't confirm any of this, but it's supposedly from a very reliable source. I suppose it could go down as relatively good news, since every news report has said two band members were dead, and the more recent rumors were that Bob was the second one killed.
Anyway, that's all I know right now. R.I.P. Darrell Abbott, and here's hoping that I don't have to put up an "R.I.P. Bob Kakaha" update on here any time soon. Fucking A. Kind of puts minor crap like getting evicted in perspective. A but too much fucking perspective, if you ask me.
9:28 AM - UPDATE: Now, there's conflicting rumors that Patrick Lachman was shot and killed or that the second band member shot was someone from one of the opening acts (Shadows Fall and The Haunted, if I remember correctly) who jumped up there and tried to shield Dimebag. Hell, I dunno. I should just wait for something official to come up.
On an unrelated note, they found out the reason that Ol' Dirty Bastard died was because he was apparently working as a coke mule, and the balloon in his stomach started leaking. Cocaine is a helluva drug.

Um. WOW.

I can remember saying things about how I hoped Kerry lost the election, but I still wouldn't be happy that Bush won. And for you Republicans out there who haven't found a reason not to like the guy, here's one for you. He signed off on THIS. It's not as bad as they make it sound initially, as it's intended to just monitor what happens to the kids after normal household chemical use, but the problem here is that there will probably be parents who intentionally start using more poisonous shit in order to qualify for this.
Still, though, as a former Mississippi (the place where the tap water kills boll weevils) resident and exterminator, (where I would sometimes be armpit-deep in Malathion for pump-unclogging purposes) I wish this wasn't limited to kids, so I could sign up. Shit, I'd drink Windex for $970, a t-shirt, a video camera, and a framed certificate of appreciation. Especially if this was the shirt:

Fun.

I just got evicted, and there's a chance I might be out somewhere around $460 bucks on the deal. I might also bludgeon my roommate and steal her dog that she neglects.
Wheeee.