I am a lot like America right now - in a dark spot, completely self-created, with easy to identify solutions that don't seem too much fun to have to deal with. I have used too much credit, and not worked as much as I should. It's got me in a tight spot, but not nearly as tight as a lot of people, much like America, where our kids don't make toys from scrap lead at the landfill. They still ship our donated clothes by the ton to foreign countries much more fucked than us. I should probably simplify my lifestyle, as opposed to feeling entitled to the bullshit routine I sometimes am in, and expecting someone else (i.e. credit, or home refinancing creating false wealth by cashing out home equity that only existed as imaginary paper wealth anyways) to infuse me with supposed sustenance for my indulgences.
Really, the last couple months - actually the past year - has been shitty financially for me. Not as shitty as a lot of people, but shittier than I would've wanted myself to be at this point in my life. If not for a loving family and three beautiful daughters who get me geeked to pull myself out of the bed, I would've swallowed a hollow point by now. Then again, without the family, I'd probably be a derelict hobo drunkard poet most of my life, living in the obscurity of the deep underclass, far deeper than alleged underground pop cultural movements.
I can accept what I need to do. Wake up, do a little Jimmy Valiant in the mirror, roll out and work a long fucking day. I tend to feel cleansed by hard labor - that is the work ethic brainwashing a lot of southern fucks like myself get distilled with. It is why we do not believe in organized labor, because you work to earn money. Paid holidays and paid breaks and shit like that seems perverse to us because you earn money for working, not sitting around fucking off. It may seem simple, but is how my mind works. And being self-employed, with a decent amount of work still lined up in this declining economy, all I have to do is pull a few 50 hour weeks and my financial situation will improve just fine. My problem is motivation, not opportunity. This is like America as well, or at least how it was, because plenty of people have plenty of jobs where they don't do shit but fuck off most of the day. If you are sitting at work reading this, you are a good example. Why the fuck would you be reading this while someone is paying you to work?
But simplifying my life would be the best bet, much like America. I am involved in far too many things, many of them commercial (meaning they cost money not only to take part in, but to sustain, as whatever form of shit you waste time with, technology constantly make obsolete what you just invested into), that don't really feed me personally. I "own" (in the sense I owe the bank) five acres, and a two-story house. That's a hellafied amount of land to put to use with animals and plants and creative endeavors.
That's the darkest part for me lately. I have plenty of ideas, like always, but little execution. I think there's some connection for me subsconsciously where if I'm not working as hard as I should be in laborous ways attached to earning money, I don't feel I deserve the self-indulgent time to be creative. Or maybe I need the physical exhaustion of my body to force my mind to be like, "Yo, let's get our's too, bitch."
The point is, fixing my darkness is easy... work harder, allow my creativity to come out more thoroughly, and simplify things. Same thing for America. Except it doesn't do shit like that. It wants to continue thinking everybody can get rich always, as if capitalism is a continuous creation of new imaginary wealth, as opposed to the circulation of a finite amount of tangible wealth. There are those who have lived off of refinancing or getting new credit cards for almost a decade now, and they are being forced to face the place they set for themselves - no longer being to roll it all over, but also having to actually pay the things they've ran up. I'm not sure how sorry I feel for some people who find themselves in houses worth less than they owe, especially knowing how people started to treat houses like cars that you traded up for a new one every few years, or worse yet, people who were "flipping" houses for pure profit for basically doing nothing more than having enough imaginary paper wealth to allow to do such a thing.
That is my biggest problem with all this shit - that people make fake wealth by skimming off of other's transactions, and that's supposed to be a perfectly acceptable thing to do. The bundling of fucked-up mortgages as investments, even oil futures investments, banks skimming transactions fees, five bucks to cash a check when you don't have an account, all that bullshit. Making money for doing nothing. And no one is going to start seeing that as wrong. Hell, that's more the American Dream now than working hard and making a nice spot for yourself. Working hardly and getting paid, that's the shit right there. And that's not gonna change, no matter who the fuck you vote for. In fact, most of these people who have invested all this saviour energy into Obama are not all that different from neo-con Bushies when you sit on the outside looking in. Both groups feel like they know what's best for everyone, both want to force their beliefs on the majority at large, and neither of them really respects anybody who disagrees.
I am highly disillusioned lately, but again, that's because I've been paying attention to much. Pulling inward, working more, creating more, looking to others less, it will make it all a whole lot better. Any of you putting a lot of value in what someone else is going to do for you, I'd advise you to temper that with simplicity or you're just gonna get fucked, over and over. It has been a bad relationship thus far, with two men, and I know one of them is promising you he's changing this time, but you are going to have to move back in with him in order to see if he actually has changed. And I know the first guy has beat you up pretty badly the past few years, but going back and forth between a couple of assholes always promising to behave differently has helped make us all fucked in the first place. But props to you for still believing in fairy tales.
Monday, October 13
Friday, October 10
(frybread) American Auto Parts
My truck failed Virginia state inspection for legality, because I needed a new center link (which explain the looseness of steering, but it's really not that bad). So being the type of guy who unexplainedly feels impotent if he can't fix his own vehicle, I decided to get the part and figure it out (with the help of my trusty Haynes Manual). I go to the four-lane miracle mile auto parts places, meaning Advance Auto and Autozone, and neither of them has the part, but Advance could order it and have it the next day. I am reluctant because their alternators suck (if you buy one from them for replacing on your vehicle, don't tighten the bolts too tight, because you're gonna have to do it again in four months). Advance Auto is white and bright and usually has like four young white guys working there, one middle-aged black guy (who is the cool one, but usually outside in the parking lot with the battery/alternator testing cart, talking to someone from high school), and one fat creepy redneck woman. You really want to catch one of the white guys (again, ideally the black guy, but he's never inside) to try and find your part. Autozone I completely don't trust because it has too many spinner wheel covers and Mexicans with frosted hair to ever feel comfortable inside of.
So I was about to give up when I accidentally drove by a Federated Auto Parts place in the older part of town. I figured, fuck it, and stopped in. There was very little actual shelf space for customers peruse, basically just one long ass wooden counter, painted with grey oil paint and covered with promotional bullshit from ten years ago, and a small army of older dudes waiting to see what I needed. Most of the shit you could buy was behind them in long thin library-like aisles, and you could tell from looking at these geezers interact, some had worked here for going on 15, 20 years. It was really beautiful, the way America used to be, where you got a job, and so long as you didn't fuck up, they didn't fuck you up. You might not have dental insurance, but you got Labor Day paid, and the carpet down the aisles behind the counter was well worn by brown shoes. The guy who happened to help me had facial hair exactly like my dad, just my dad died at 47 and this guy was easily pushing 55, so it was like my dad got old and we didn't know each other and he had to look up a center link for a Nissan truck on a computer he wasn't completely comfortable punching buttons on. (They still have like five feet of giant, crinkly-paged catalogs in the middle of the counter, where the parts are listed for real old school style, in case they have to get all old school on you. That's beautiful too, because if the power system failed, those other places would be lost with no computers to process every fucking thing they do. At least I know if our electrical grid completely blows up one weekend, I can still get some new brakes or spark plugs for my car to help pass the powerless time.) They also didn't have my part, but they could get it too. Unlike the Advance Auto androids, who were like, "Please transmit your creditory information to us and we can process this automobile part into our coordinates by 1400 hours one daily cycle into the future thank you customer #281093760," the Federated dude was like, "I don't know if it'll be here tomorrow. Hold on." And he called over a taller, older dude who was like, "Well damn man. Usually if we order it by 4, we have it tomorrow morning." It was 4:20 brah. "We should be able to get it here though, it ain't comin' from but Staunton." I told them to go ahead and order it, so I paid with my stupid credit card since I'm broke of any real monies right now. The older, taller guy said, "Call up here tomorrow and make shore it came in before you come up here." "How late are you open?" "Not but till 2, and make sure you get here 'cuz we are outta here at two." Then he turned to my fake old dad and said, "Make shore you put on there for Dave that he's gonna call in the morning to see if it came in." I was stoked, whether the part came or not, I felt good about supporting America, about doing my part, whatever little part that was. Fixing my own car and keeping this crazy old fuckers in business.
Next day, the part was there, so after coaching U-6 soccer, I rolled to town to get the part. Came home, wrong part completely, for a 4x4 and I have a 2WD, which I told my old fake dad. Oh well. While I was under there, I realized it was the idler arm and not the center link, and the only place I could get a center link anyways was from the dealer, which was like $400. So I returned the wrong center link, and being they was old school, the older tattooed guy who took my return gave me cash instead of returning the money to my credit card, which I had told my wife they would probably do, since it wasn't a shiny, sterile ass place. They deal in cash first, even on returns. So I had $110 all of a sudden, even though I had been broke. And that is how I had money for a six-pack on my ride home today, in my wife's car, because I had yet to change the idler arm on my truck, and it's been sitting on jack stands half the week. At least I have jack stands now. When it was just my Volvo, I used solid cinderblocks (for foundations), which always looked good passing by on the road. That Volvo has been sitting there under the oak tree with two flat tires for like 20 months now. I should just put it up on cinderblocks again and throw the tires in the back of the truck until I have actualy money again to get new ones put on the rims. Then I can have two cars, all to myself. We Americans sometimes don't realize how fucking good we got it.
So I was about to give up when I accidentally drove by a Federated Auto Parts place in the older part of town. I figured, fuck it, and stopped in. There was very little actual shelf space for customers peruse, basically just one long ass wooden counter, painted with grey oil paint and covered with promotional bullshit from ten years ago, and a small army of older dudes waiting to see what I needed. Most of the shit you could buy was behind them in long thin library-like aisles, and you could tell from looking at these geezers interact, some had worked here for going on 15, 20 years. It was really beautiful, the way America used to be, where you got a job, and so long as you didn't fuck up, they didn't fuck you up. You might not have dental insurance, but you got Labor Day paid, and the carpet down the aisles behind the counter was well worn by brown shoes. The guy who happened to help me had facial hair exactly like my dad, just my dad died at 47 and this guy was easily pushing 55, so it was like my dad got old and we didn't know each other and he had to look up a center link for a Nissan truck on a computer he wasn't completely comfortable punching buttons on. (They still have like five feet of giant, crinkly-paged catalogs in the middle of the counter, where the parts are listed for real old school style, in case they have to get all old school on you. That's beautiful too, because if the power system failed, those other places would be lost with no computers to process every fucking thing they do. At least I know if our electrical grid completely blows up one weekend, I can still get some new brakes or spark plugs for my car to help pass the powerless time.) They also didn't have my part, but they could get it too. Unlike the Advance Auto androids, who were like, "Please transmit your creditory information to us and we can process this automobile part into our coordinates by 1400 hours one daily cycle into the future thank you customer #281093760," the Federated dude was like, "I don't know if it'll be here tomorrow. Hold on." And he called over a taller, older dude who was like, "Well damn man. Usually if we order it by 4, we have it tomorrow morning." It was 4:20 brah. "We should be able to get it here though, it ain't comin' from but Staunton." I told them to go ahead and order it, so I paid with my stupid credit card since I'm broke of any real monies right now. The older, taller guy said, "Call up here tomorrow and make shore it came in before you come up here." "How late are you open?" "Not but till 2, and make sure you get here 'cuz we are outta here at two." Then he turned to my fake old dad and said, "Make shore you put on there for Dave that he's gonna call in the morning to see if it came in." I was stoked, whether the part came or not, I felt good about supporting America, about doing my part, whatever little part that was. Fixing my own car and keeping this crazy old fuckers in business.
Next day, the part was there, so after coaching U-6 soccer, I rolled to town to get the part. Came home, wrong part completely, for a 4x4 and I have a 2WD, which I told my old fake dad. Oh well. While I was under there, I realized it was the idler arm and not the center link, and the only place I could get a center link anyways was from the dealer, which was like $400. So I returned the wrong center link, and being they was old school, the older tattooed guy who took my return gave me cash instead of returning the money to my credit card, which I had told my wife they would probably do, since it wasn't a shiny, sterile ass place. They deal in cash first, even on returns. So I had $110 all of a sudden, even though I had been broke. And that is how I had money for a six-pack on my ride home today, in my wife's car, because I had yet to change the idler arm on my truck, and it's been sitting on jack stands half the week. At least I have jack stands now. When it was just my Volvo, I used solid cinderblocks (for foundations), which always looked good passing by on the road. That Volvo has been sitting there under the oak tree with two flat tires for like 20 months now. I should just put it up on cinderblocks again and throw the tires in the back of the truck until I have actualy money again to get new ones put on the rims. Then I can have two cars, all to myself. We Americans sometimes don't realize how fucking good we got it.
NFL WK 6: West division teams
#1: DENVER BRONCOS (4-1, 10th overall)
You know, with the Patriots and Colts on the downswing, the AFC's alleged dominance has just straight up dissipated. The Broncos could end up with the best record in the AFC, and they are a fucking sham of a team. I mean, sure Jay Cutler is getting the sports media Next Big Thing hype out the ass, but unless they switch to arena league rules, the Broncs are gonna have to find some defense somewhere along the way too. The worst thing about this is it keeps stupid Mike Shanahan employed even longer. His vapid look stalking the sidelines, looking at laminated schematics of ways to molest little girls, but written in fake football coach algebra equations to seem like he's an uber-genius dialed in to sports settings.
#2: ARIZONA CARDINALS (3-2, 16th overall)
Even though the west divisions are full of shitty teams, I will not go that reactionary route and be like OMG! They should change everything so the straight up best 12 teams go to the playoffs! It's not fair! Who gives a fuck? Once the season is over and the Cardinals have eeked out a nice 8-8 division title, finally unseating the Seattle Seahoohas, we can have one week's worth of touching Kurt Warner - Jesus Dude who is so Sincere he contemplated retirement when that black dude who catches all the balls almost got obliterated against the Jets. But he didn't! You know why? Kurt Warner is football, bros. He lives and breaths it and thanks God for it every day of his blessed life. That's gonna be the stories for one week till they get crushed at home by a wild card team that's like 2 games better in the win column.
#3: SAN DIEGO CHARGERS (2-3, 18th overall)
Oh man, the cancerous disease of football fortune named Norv Turner has wreaked his own special brand of franchise destruction in record time on the Chargers. Remember how this was one of the league's premier teams at the end of last year? L.T. is like a second thought now, and Philip Rivers is getting rated the most overrated QB in the league by other players in Sports Illustrated. And Ol' Freddy Kruger Jr. just stands over there, all nonchalant like nothing's going on. I'm sure at the end of the year, he'll blame Ed Hochuli for turning their season sour with that one call, and it was hard to recover from there. And he'll keep his job again. The fact Norv Turner has gotten and kept so many head coaching gigs in the NFL for so long makes me believe that that Mr. Show sketch about blowjobs and law offices must be for-real and apply to the NFL.
#4: OAKLAND RAIDERS (1-3, 25th overall)
Apparently Lane Kiffin gives really shitty blowjobs. I am hitched to a couple of Raiders players, fantastical football-wise, so I'd like them to remain competitive under whatever random Bill White Guy Positions Coach is filling in until crazy man Al Davis finds someone stupid enough yet high profile enough to satisfy his appetite for false hopes of impending excellence. I like how Warren Sapp outed Davis for making phone calls to the sidelines during games to call for the bomb. I always thought Warren Sapp's unsavory reputation was wrong, from the moment false weedhead reports dropped him in the NFL draft. He's obviously upset some very powerful football illuminati types, which is probably reason why he was cast from the Bill Walsh West Coast offense coaching tree in Tampa Bay, as Bill Walsh is the Johann Weishaupt of football.
#5: SEATTLE SEAHAWKS (1-3, 26th overall)
I have no real reason to not like the Seahawks, as they have absolutely nothing to do with the Redskins. But for some reason, they are one of the teams I hate more than any other. I think it's because they moved from the AFC to the NFC. Coming up watching football in the '80s, NFC dominated, and that's where my team was, so I'm down with the NFC. So some team jumping ship to a different conference, I don't know, seems kinda wack to me. I think for the same reasons, I like the Jaguars, because I like to imagine they were actually an NFC team wrongly put into the AFC because of the pussy assed Seahawks. I am sad for Shaun Alexander. Like, nobody will sign him. The Bengals signed shitty Cedric Benson, but no one will sign light-loafered Shaun Alexander. When I was doing these things last year, I got a bunch of hits to the blog when people were searching things like "Why is Shaun Alexander such a pussy?" One of the greatest things about doing a faggy blog is seeing the retarded shit people look up and end up at your site. Kinda makes me proud that somebody would look up inside a google search for answers to why Shaun Alexander was such a pussy and they ended up reading me. Not that I can answer that question. Is it environment, or are people born that way? Nature or nurture has always been the two facets of that argument, but years ago I read a bunch of psychological profiles on siamese twins, who genetically, are pretty much a split of the same fucking thing. As for environmental conditions, siamese twins can't have that much difference in their upbringing, what with being joined at the hip, literally (most of the time... I guess there are those weird siamese twins attached at the top of the head, which is really disturbing to me, probably because I've always wanted to have a menage a trois with siamese twins). And most pairs of siamese twins, in these psychological profiles, were very different, with identical nature and near-identical nurture. So I don't know why Shaun Alexander was such a pussy, just in case someone's still trying to figure that out through the internets.
#6: ST. LOUIS RAMS (0-4, 27th overall)
I do not trust these St. Louis Rams coming into Washington as 14 point underdogs this weekend. It seems a set-up, to cause trauma and heartache to what has been a feel-good season for me thus far. I know one thing about them - Chris Long, their rookie defensive end, is fucking awesome. He was a viking destroyer at UVA, and actually won games for them single-handedly, as a defensive end, which is really fucking hard to do. Chris Long will end up being way better than his father was, but I would imagine he may do it in relative obscurity if his career is maintained mostly in the Gateway City. Offense is their strong suit right now, which is an aging offense with a weak offensive line. I guess they've got some decent dudes on defense now too, but it always seems that great Rams defenders of the past fifteen years or so end up going somewhere else as a free agent to really make their mark. Except for Leonard Little. I think it'd be too much trouble for him to get his restricted driver's license to allow for him to drive to a different stadium or something.
#7: KANSAS CITY CHIEFS (1-4, 28th overall)
Man, I miss Herm Edwards. He's a wacky fucker, always thinking out loud and making for the funnies with the press. It's nice to see the NFL have a head coach of German heritage too. Herm's philosophy this past year was like he was playing Madden '03 and all his best players were 34 years old - he traded everything away and had like 18 draft picks. Props to Larry Johnson too for being probably the best Penn State RB in recent memory (which means he's only partially underachieved as a pro, as opposed to most Nittany Leons, who usually fucking suck rather quickly).
#8: SAN FRANCISCO 49ERS (2-3, 29th overall)
Yeah, my mathematical routine has the 49ers lower than everybody else, even though they've won 2 games. They lose home games against mediocre teams, and one of their wins was against the flailing ass Seahawks. I know everybody got all geeked up there for a minute about J.T. O'Sullivan and Mike Martz utilizing Frank Gore like no one has ever had the sense to utilize Frank Gore before, but it looks it's almost midnight and time to turn in the fancy ball gown for shitty franchise rags again. Then again, they are in the NFC West, where a three-game winning streak could you put ahead of everybody else for good.
Friday, October 3
(frybread) Man vs. Machine
At times lately, I've hated all this bullshit. I hate what I do for a half-living, hate how I can't seem to escape it though because I've piled up too many obligations on top of that mistake (just like watching young neglected mothers add new babies to a bad relationship) and work history typecasts you into bad roles. I can't even go to work somedays, sitting in my truck, wondering whether I should even continue on with this numbing charade. But then for what? So some people cry and miss me or some lame ass shit like that, that I wouldn't even see? Fucking weak.
Honestly, I should value myself more than thinking stupid thangs like that, but I also should value myself more than to pile self-esteem unto myself by buying flashy bullshit, which to be fair is usually secondhand and not that expensive by regular people standards. I need to fucking simplify. I need more chickens and less full tanks of gas. I need less fucking electricity usage and should probably read a lot more, and not just more robot filter internet mindwashes (ha - like this).
Yeah yeah yeah, I should probably do a lot of things, but probably I'm just gonna fall asleep on the couch, then get up and go back to work, watching paint-stripping chemicals splash red burn marks on my forearms. Rinse, spin, repeat. Rinse, spin, repeat. No wonder I fucking contemplate unplugging the machine that I've ended up being sometimes.
Honestly, I should value myself more than thinking stupid thangs like that, but I also should value myself more than to pile self-esteem unto myself by buying flashy bullshit, which to be fair is usually secondhand and not that expensive by regular people standards. I need to fucking simplify. I need more chickens and less full tanks of gas. I need less fucking electricity usage and should probably read a lot more, and not just more robot filter internet mindwashes (ha - like this).
Yeah yeah yeah, I should probably do a lot of things, but probably I'm just gonna fall asleep on the couch, then get up and go back to work, watching paint-stripping chemicals splash red burn marks on my forearms. Rinse, spin, repeat. Rinse, spin, repeat. No wonder I fucking contemplate unplugging the machine that I've ended up being sometimes.
100 VINYLZ: #87 - Trans-Europe Express LP by Kraftwerk
(1977, EMI Records)
The older guy I worked with when I was like 16 (he was like ten years older, not creepy child perv older) who convinced me doing acid would be a good thing was a strong influence on me back then. I used to go to his house and we'd smoke weed while his wife would be kinda weirded out by it, and we'd all watch Reverend Gene Scott on the satellite (back when they were big giant slow-turning dishes). He ended up giving me a couple hundred records, just to get rid of them. This was one of them. At the time, I had no idea of it's strong influence on early rap music, specifically Afrika Bambaataa. I was a young kid who liked drugs and making mixtapes, so throwing "Hall of Mirrors" in the mix with all it's strange German blip-blooping and echoey vocals was trippy, brah.
Years later, knowing the history of hip hop music, or even electronic music in general, and what a crazy pioneering force those weird straight-laced looking four white dudes on the cover of this Kraftwerk joint were, I hold the album dear. But I hardly ever listen to it. You could strap a couple of early '90s pagers to your ears with a bandana and call them with your cellphone on speaker mode to get the basic Kraftwerk sound. It's just weird German blips and bloops, and I don't trust German things. I have always held this belief that anything really popular in New York City and Berlin is something I want as far away from me as possible; that's the two-pronged spike of societal degeneracy for me. And I have no problem finding something creepy about Bronx-based Bambaataa being all about some fucked-up German-based Kraftwerk. But I can look beyond that. Mostly because the cover is funny, and I still like to cull samples from the album, and still throw "Hall of Mirrors" into mixes. "Even the greatest stars... discover themselves in the looking glass." Seriously, that's the greatest creepy-assed song ever, and the fact no one has made some tweaked-out post-apocalyptic movie with that in the soundtrack as the flick's nemesis is riding through the wasteland in his super destruction machine.
NFL WK 5: NFC South & East teams
#1: DALLAS COWBOYS (3-1, 1st overall)
My mathematical method of ranking teams doesn't jump to conclusions like most power rankings, which are reactive and drop teams because they lost. Because I still, well my stupid method at least, has the Cowboys as the best team overall in the league, even after losing a close one at home to the Redskins. And really, they got dominated in that game, punched in the fucking pussy ass face, but they still only lost by 2 points. Of course, T.O., being a repressed homosexual who never learned no better being raised by womenfolks his whole life, has already flipped out and demanded they involve him more, even though he got the ball a third of the plays in the game. But you could see he was gonna complain, sitting on the sidelines towards the end of the game, rolling his eyes like a sixth grade class clown after being reprimanded. It makes Jerry Jones having Wade Phillips as his lame duck Ralph Wiggum-looking coach even stupider, standing over there on the sidelines looking impotent, thinking, "Man, I hope the coordinators do something to turn this around," and waiting to see what happened like he was simming a game of Madden. They're gonna be lucky to squeeze the rest of this year out of T.O. now, much less another season. And it could strike midnight again on the Tony Romo Cinderfella story again at any time, if not according to usual schedule during the playoffs in January.
Nonetheless, they're still the best in this league of parity. I was surprised at how weak their defense looked against the Redskins, because that d-line is scary. The secondary is suspect as fuck though. We knew Roy Williams was toast, but Terence Newman looked like he might be fighting for a nickelback situational role as well. But they got Cincinnati coming to town this week, which will cure anybody's ills. Ask the Browns.
#2: WASHINGTON REDSKINS (3-1, 2nd overall)
I was way concerned after that first game against the Giants, thinking my beloved Washington Redskins were doomed, being led by a deer-in-the-headlights, anime-haircut new head coach. But after this past weekend's display of smashmouth burgundy-and-gold awesomeness, I am on board the Zen of Jim Zorn bandwagon. He will end up being the Phil Jackson of the NFL, and I truly believe in his naive comments sometimes (like comparing the Redskins/Cowboys rivalry to Raiders/Seahawks, or saying the Skins wore "maroon and black" in his initial press conference) are just an act. He preaches to the players to stay even-keeled, "stay medium" being the chosen catchphrase, and you could see that even after the game, where Santana Moss was all like, "Hey, we got to stay level and just go play our next game." There was no gloating, no mental champagne celebrations for beating the best team in football and your blood rival. This is why the Redskins will be the new Patriots.
#3: TAMPA BAY BUCCANEERS (3-1, 3rd overall)
You know, I have to admit Jon Gruden must be some kind of coaching genius, because he is 3-1 with the born loser named Brian Griese as his starting quarterback. That's pretty amazing. What happened to Jeff Garcia though? He's already like 38 or something, and now he's just sitting in Chris Simms spot at the end of the bench, wasting his fleeting NFL career away? With as many QBs as Tampa Bay had traded for, I also wonder if Gruden doesn't have a gay QB fetish, and once he's tired of you, you are cast aside like just another slut, except you're under contract so you can't go fuck another coach. T.O. already speculated about Garcia, who does have quite the effeminate voice. You look at any picture of Chris Simms, and it's hard not to imagine him being pretty light in the cleats. And why was Jake Plummer so against going to play there? He knew what was up. I hope one day Jon Gruden can draft himself the perfect quarterback, a young, virile kid with boyish good looks that he can settle down with and build a future together.
#4: CAROLINA PANTHERS (3-1, 5th overall)
Steve Smith got himself a touchdown and he gave the ball to Ken Lucas, whose nose he smashed up in a fit of violence during the preseason. When Smith was suspended by the team, they bonded together and came out barnstorming. The Panthers always seem to be at least competitive, and the NFC South is always a clusterfuck, so they could probably run away with this one this year if Jake Delhomey can keep his creole ass from getting crippled again, and the defense stays competent, John Fox will continue his neverending foray into professional football-coaching.
#5: NEW YORK GIANTS (3-0, 8th overall)
You know why Tom Coughlin suspended Plaxico Burress? Because he's black. Getting fined for being late to meetings and shit? Fined because he's black. That's why they ran off Jeremy Shockey, because he liked rap music and hanging out with his negro friends from the U. It's sad that a team that supposedly represents New York City - the vibrant fertile breeding ground of so many proud forms of black culture that eventually spread worldwide - would be such a racist institution, headed by hick ass Eli Manning. It's sad that the backwards, close-minded mentality of Jersey has infiltrated a once proud urban professional football team, that probably didn't hire black players at one point until someone else did and they realized they needed black people, no matter how they smelled, in order to remain competitive.
#6: PHILADELPHIA EAGLES (2-2, 10th overall)
That long boring ass game against the Bears proved what every football talking head fuckface has always said, that without Brian Westbrook, they ain't got shit going on. But who the fuck cares about that nonsense. The other football dork talking point is how they are last in the toughest division in the NFL, and need to turn it around quick. Fuck that noise too. I mostly just like Brian Dawkins. Were I to run a camp that trained at-risk youths to grow up and destroy the infrastructure established by The Men, I would hire Brian Dawkins to come give motivational speeches. He seems not quite sane, and is the type of player that I would hope will coach if Jerry Glanville's video game-based football league ever comes to fruition. Also Deltha O'Neal. But not Ronnie Lott. I think he's overrated as a dastardly headhunter, just because he won all those stupid Super Bowls.
#7: NEW ORLEANS SAINTS (2-2, 17th overall)
I read something recently that led me to believe that Kardashian is an Armenian name, which makes me even more disturbed by Kim Kardashian. I love big asses like a motherfucker, ogling them, even hiding in the woods to masturbate thinking about them sometimes. But her's is weirdly overshaped. Now I understand it better, being she may or may not be Armenian. I used to work with some Armenians, and they are a weak breed of human, very fickle and superficial and apt for overexaggeration. Plus lots of hair, but K-dubble probably shaves all that off. I do acknowledge the genocide of Armenians at some point I don't know about by some other people, I think the Turkmen was who done it, because if a culture wants to badger others into admitting a whole bunch of them were killed senselessly in the past, I am down. I want us all to get along and have pot lucks where I bring some good egg-based potato salad while they bring their weird ass Armenian food. Unless that's one of the Euro cultures I don't know shit about that like all those awesome sausages like whitefish sausage and chains of them like Tony Soprano wears around twirling the end of, because I want to get down with that type of culture, at least for like Saturday supper, which is what we folks call your dinner down here.
#8: ATLANTA FALCONS (2-2, 23rd overall)
Arthur Blank is a funny looking little old rich dude, like Mel Brooks somehow even homelier-looking brother. That's all I got this week because I'm tired, don't give a fuck, but wanted to force this out tonight, for my retarded self-imposed deadlines that mean nothing, so that I can get back to laying in the bed and having fantasy delusions of how the Redskins are gonna be 7-1 in a few weeks. That's bad energy to be sending into the cosmos, to jinx up my favorite team, but I don't really know no better.
Thursday, October 2
100 VINYLZ: #88 - Highway to Hell LP by AC/DC
(1979, Atlantic Records)
This may come across as a corny ass pick, but sometimes the obvious shit is still the best. And I understand that every fucking white person in an English-speaking country, as well as half of Mexico and Native American reservations, owned a copy of the next album - Back in Black. But this one, the last with drunk ass Bon Scott singing, has always been my favorite. Good, solid alcohol-fueled, statutory raping music. But even beyond the obvious simple awesomeness of it, that brings impoverished drunken people of many cultures together in cheap bars, this is one of the great popular pseudo-satanic albums of all-time. Hell, serial killer Richard Ramirez pretty much based his whole Night Stalker gimmick on the album, specifically the last song "Night Prowler". And it's not that I want murderous mental cases sneaking around all over, but they have a certain intriguing value to them. Serial killers, much like feral children, provide a wonderful bounty of super-interesting newspaper and magazine articles.
But yeah, Bon Scott. That guy had the best whiskey-shredded shrieky blues rock voice ever, perfect for warbling out lyrics about sex and violence. Brian Johnson did a competent job of taking over, but Bon Scott was the fucking man. I can only hope there really is a Heaven, and it has a rundown end of town where most of the white underclass lives at, and Bon Scott has some sort of band with Cliff Burton and some other dudes. I was gonna name some famous dead fuckers for other instruments, but really all I care about is Bon Scott and Cliff Burton, and I'm sure they'd jibe better with like some no-name guitarist from rural Pennsylvania who died in a drunk driving accident and a Mexican kid drummer who went brain dead after too much freon.
(frybread) Wide Mouth Quart Jars
It is no wonder America is fucked and we have the retard parade we have, making their little power point debate presentation bullshits. We are fucked because we, on average, expect someone else to do shit for us. We expect someone else to come along and save us. We want change so badly and both of these rich fags are running around dropping "change this" and "change that" and all these suckers are investing emotional attachment to one or the other, but especially Barack Obama, thinking, "Well great, finally somebody's gonna make the change for me."
My wife bought 150 pounds of seconds apples for $10 at a local orchard the other day, plus a couple five gallon buckets of pears, and I think some other shit. So I needed to get a few things to get a canning operation together. Went to one grocery store. Nothing. Went to a Wal-Mart. Nothing. Nothing anywhere. One grocery store had an empty shelf where the shit would be, but that did me no fucking good. But you know what every Wal-Mart and every grocery store did have? Organic food aisles, usually with wood motif and green letters and earthy tones. No fucking quart-sized mason jars to can up some food though.
This comes home to me in Scottsville, where the local shithole grocery store that had trophies on display from meatcutting skills competitions in the early '80s, is getting emptied little by little, as they're not restocking a lot of things because of the Food Lion being built next door. Lots of locals are excited for the Food Lion, because of cleaner floors, one of the aforementioned froufrou organic aisles. But there won't be any canning supplies anywhere to be found. And all the old shit is gone from the local shithole store, and they won't be restocking because why would they? Maybe I should ask Joe, the owner/manager, to order me up some this week. He would do that. He knows us by face. His wife runs the diner downtown and they make some good ass hamburgers there. We used to get them to save their gallon-sized glass pickle jars for us.
Anyways, no canning bullshit yet, and 150 pounds of ginger gold apples in the kitchen. Hopefully the Dollar General will have the hook-up because they tend to have that type of stuff. But it's kind of telling that you can buy Annie's Organic Frozen Pizzas pretty much anywhere, but not a fucking mason jar. As much as we act like we be wanting change, but we don't want to do shit for ourselves. Let someone else do it. That's why I'm gonna vote for McCain/Palin, because Obama ain't gonna change shit. It's still dudes in suits talking about bullshit I don't care about. I'd rather see this motherfucker burn. That's some real change. Burn it all up and see what sprouts next. I figure McCain's an old ass fucker with skin cancer bubbling up underneath the Botox, and Sarah Palin, who ruined my Tina Fey fantasies by exposing what she's gonna look like in 15 years - kinda creepy and librarian-ish, is your average beauty pageant dumb bitch. Which would be great to have as President if McCain died. Bush has done a great job screwing things up, to a point closer to absolute breakdown than we've ever been in my life, and I'd really love to see Palin end up in office to hold the course. Too many people are caught up in their little bullshit anybody-but-Bush-finally back deck margarita get-togethers to embrace a real change. Because those fuckers are fat and comfortable just like political cartoon Wall Street caricatures, except those fuckers do yoga and eat sprouts and wild salmon to stay more visually fit. They're still fat and rich compared to the shit I've known most of my life. So fuck yall too. I'm voting for Sarah Palin, even though that rich stuck-up bitch probably wouldn't know how to can up some apples either.
My wife bought 150 pounds of seconds apples for $10 at a local orchard the other day, plus a couple five gallon buckets of pears, and I think some other shit. So I needed to get a few things to get a canning operation together. Went to one grocery store. Nothing. Went to a Wal-Mart. Nothing. Nothing anywhere. One grocery store had an empty shelf where the shit would be, but that did me no fucking good. But you know what every Wal-Mart and every grocery store did have? Organic food aisles, usually with wood motif and green letters and earthy tones. No fucking quart-sized mason jars to can up some food though.
This comes home to me in Scottsville, where the local shithole grocery store that had trophies on display from meatcutting skills competitions in the early '80s, is getting emptied little by little, as they're not restocking a lot of things because of the Food Lion being built next door. Lots of locals are excited for the Food Lion, because of cleaner floors, one of the aforementioned froufrou organic aisles. But there won't be any canning supplies anywhere to be found. And all the old shit is gone from the local shithole store, and they won't be restocking because why would they? Maybe I should ask Joe, the owner/manager, to order me up some this week. He would do that. He knows us by face. His wife runs the diner downtown and they make some good ass hamburgers there. We used to get them to save their gallon-sized glass pickle jars for us.
Anyways, no canning bullshit yet, and 150 pounds of ginger gold apples in the kitchen. Hopefully the Dollar General will have the hook-up because they tend to have that type of stuff. But it's kind of telling that you can buy Annie's Organic Frozen Pizzas pretty much anywhere, but not a fucking mason jar. As much as we act like we be wanting change, but we don't want to do shit for ourselves. Let someone else do it. That's why I'm gonna vote for McCain/Palin, because Obama ain't gonna change shit. It's still dudes in suits talking about bullshit I don't care about. I'd rather see this motherfucker burn. That's some real change. Burn it all up and see what sprouts next. I figure McCain's an old ass fucker with skin cancer bubbling up underneath the Botox, and Sarah Palin, who ruined my Tina Fey fantasies by exposing what she's gonna look like in 15 years - kinda creepy and librarian-ish, is your average beauty pageant dumb bitch. Which would be great to have as President if McCain died. Bush has done a great job screwing things up, to a point closer to absolute breakdown than we've ever been in my life, and I'd really love to see Palin end up in office to hold the course. Too many people are caught up in their little bullshit anybody-but-Bush-finally back deck margarita get-togethers to embrace a real change. Because those fuckers are fat and comfortable just like political cartoon Wall Street caricatures, except those fuckers do yoga and eat sprouts and wild salmon to stay more visually fit. They're still fat and rich compared to the shit I've known most of my life. So fuck yall too. I'm voting for Sarah Palin, even though that rich stuck-up bitch probably wouldn't know how to can up some apples either.
Wednesday, October 1
100 VINYLZ: #89 - G N’ R Lies EP by Guns N’ Roses
(1988, Geffen Records)
Back in the days, I had a like third generation 90 minute cassette dub of the Some Kinda Orange live GNR that was much wanted, as Appetite for Destruction was like a prettier Motorhead record that slutty chicks didn't mind listening to while you fingered them. So I had the live shit already when this album came out. And to be honest, I got it on tape back then... actually got two copies for Christmas because I was asking for that shit from family. But I knew the live shit already, so it was nothing new.
The acoustic side though, mind crushing. Like, today everything's been lumped by history under the umbrella of "hair metal". But then, there was some of that shit that was kosher, and some that wasn't. Like, a self-respecting delinquent ass teenager of that day would never be caught pumping like Cinderella or Bon Jovi or even really Skid Row or most of that shit considered "hair metal" by VH1 expert talking heads. But GNR, at least through this album, was still in that acceptable realm. I guess the easiest criteria was if it was in RIP magazine or not, because they'd have shit like GNR right next to King Diamond right next to Megadeth (although I vaguely remember RIP getting all weird at some point too, so don't hold me to that side-of-my-head talking).
"Patience", of course, is the most famous hit from the acoustic side, still catching radio play to this day, as an example of Guns N' Roses smooth ass side, complementing the drug-addled beastliness of Appetite. But man, the real hit off this album (or EP or whatever the fuck) was "One In A Million", which, if I was one of those self-important faggots on VH1 talking about some stupid assed list show to fill programming up between Flavor of Love marathons, I'd say was the last real major label rock-n-roll song. I am old school in that rock-n-roll is about pussy and mind-altering substances for the most part, plus maybe powerful machines like guns or fast cars. Rock-n-roll is not meant to educate or empower or be open-minded and politically correct. It's about putting things in your body that make you wilder than normal and putting your thing into other wild bodies. And even though VH1 will have you believe Nirvana held a press conference on MTV and it was like a light switch changed everything, basically it was a smooth Jew music industry overlord move to capitalize on a new generation of naive young white dudes making music and cycle out the older guys who had ran their gimmick silly with shit like the aforementioned Cinderellas and Wingers and Warrants and robot-created rock music like that. "One In A Million" though, is some real shit. It's angry and fucked up, yet makes perfect sense. The world is not multi-ethnic non-denominational martini parties; it is shitty foreigners ripping you off on phone cards and crackheads hassling you too long to buy some stolen necklaces outside the Greyhound station. In fact, to over-analyze things, "One In A Million", by being so prejudiced, shows faith in something better existing - a better place without AIDS and crackheads and terrorism, albeit expressed rather Indiana whitebreadedly, whereas the later, allegedly superior in every way grunge music (another ridiculous umbrella term, before you think I'm an old codger out of touch with anything post-'91/pre-9/11, which I'm not saying I'm not either) was jaded and cynical and lacked a hope for a better place. They had given up.
I am sad that we live in a world so open-minded it is closed towards "One In A Million" being accepted as easily one of the best rock-n-roll anthems of the past twenty years. I still play it regularly, so much so that my copy of this on vinyl is all scratched up. I have kept an eye out for a new replacement copy, because I need one. "Move to the City" skips something awful, but you can really hear the dings and scratches from overplaying, or more properly over putting on turntable while drunk and stumbly, on the acoustic side. And I'll be playing "One In A Million" till the day I stop listening to the musics. You could give a million Kid Rocks a million record deals and put them in a nice studio for a million years, and they'd never come up with anything half as great.
(On a nerdy side note, I've always enjoyed the math behind being "one in a million", because with eight billion people on earth, by my last consultation with a used book store almanac, there's still like eight thousand people just like you.)
(frybread) Thank God It's Friday
I did my best to contribute to the end of America last weekend. We were riding home from Richmond and had to eat, even though we had no money, so we tapped that credit card that should've been scissored up already one more time, getting stuck on the edge of town towards home in chain restaurant nightmare land. We ended up going to T.G.I.Fridays, and knew it was a mistake as soon as we walked in, all dark fake wood and shitty teenagers on the wait staff. But the kids would've had breakdown and blood sugar mutinies, so we sat down, and proceeded to waste $70 of fake money on some shitty ass food. It tasted like shit, being we usually cook our own, but I looked around and there were all these pig-like people, stoked to be there, sharing fried green beans and some mystery sauce next to us. It was disturbing as fuck and made me want to join Al-Qaeda. I stopped going to any Chinaman buffets for the same reason, sitting there one day and seeing all the pig people waddling around happily towards their slaughterhouse death. Very Fear & Loathing like, yeah, but I am sensitive to it. Can't help it. I got weird DNA fibers inside of me.
Tuesday, September 30
Homemade Song of the Week: "South 15 Rider" by Prolo
This here "South 15 Rider" song was on the first Prolo CD after we reformed after like fifteen years not making music. We used to be making music back in the boom bap days, shitty ass white dudes, had some sleazy urban manager dude geeking us up that he could get us signed to the label that Domino "Ghetto Jam" dude was on. Man, thank God that didn't happen. There'd be mad stupid youtube clips of me in my flannel and work pants and stocking hat style. Not that there's already plenty of stupid shit with me attached to it inside the internets as it is.
At the time of this, I worked for a guy up in Barboursville, and most of our work was in Orange County, so I rode US 15 from near my house to where we worked every day. I also grew up along US 15 about another hour south from all this. Plus, my first sister moved and lives about another hour south on US 15 in Clarksville. So it only made sense I'd write a song about a fake weekend hobo escape. I had played Brown the beat to "Cadillac on 22s" one night while we were high, as an example of the most perfect beat ever made on earths, and he took that style as inspiration for a few beats, this one being the best one he made. Then we recorded it in the camper behind my house and got my wife to sing background vocals. And this is what you end up with, which for people who know the area, they love it. But for most of you, it's probably off your radar. But every word of it is true.
At the time of this, I worked for a guy up in Barboursville, and most of our work was in Orange County, so I rode US 15 from near my house to where we worked every day. I also grew up along US 15 about another hour south from all this. Plus, my first sister moved and lives about another hour south on US 15 in Clarksville. So it only made sense I'd write a song about a fake weekend hobo escape. I had played Brown the beat to "Cadillac on 22s" one night while we were high, as an example of the most perfect beat ever made on earths, and he took that style as inspiration for a few beats, this one being the best one he made. Then we recorded it in the camper behind my house and got my wife to sing background vocals. And this is what you end up with, which for people who know the area, they love it. But for most of you, it's probably off your radar. But every word of it is true.
100 VINYLZ: #90 - Extreme Aggression LP by Kreator
(1989, Noise Records)
There has never been a more perfect form of the metal musics than the original thrash movement. Never. When shit got all fake evil with the hell groan vocals, that shit's kinda stupid and cartoony. And I cannot ever once cosign on all these college town ironic metal bands that emulate the original thick grooves, but are all hanging out with anthropology and art history degrees, drinking PBRs. Pure metal is made with ignorance and hopelessness. Plus long hair. You could always tell back in the day that Rob Halford was gay because he had short hair. Long hair, a lack of hope for anything higher in life than maybe getting a G.E.D., and with twangy hyper-speed guitars. That shit is perfect.
A few years ago, I blew a good chunk of a unearned tax return by trying to re-accumulate a bunch of my favorite records from inside the ebays from my reckless youth. Some of them stood the test of time, while others were not as wonderful as my fifteen-year-old, weed-hazy mind remembered them. But two groups really stood out as being just as fucking powerful and perfect as I remembered them - Kreator and Overkill. But especially Kreator.
I have an 18 foot camper behind my house that a nice gypsy lady brought here to leave so that I'd take good care of it, except I can't have things, so now there's a pile of trash in front of it, it's half tore up, but it's perfectly me. Sometimes - and I'm 35 now - shit gets on my nerves, and I need to withdraw and pull back, and I'll go out to the camper and turn the lamp switch three times so it goes to the red light in the bottom half, and I'll put on this album, loud as fuck. Sitting outside my house in a camper in a red light listening to Kreator. But you see, I've got a college degree and upward mobility, so I know I can't recreate that, not even for leisure. So I sit there and smoke a bowl maybe, and just enjoy the fruits of other's frustrations. And it soothes my minor frustrations. Which is supposed to be the fucking point of music.
(frybread) Family Field Trip to the Science Museum
We took the kids to the Science Museum in Richmond last weekend, to get some science and see the Imaxes movie pictures about the Grand Canyon. I hadn't seen an Imax flick since I was in high school and me and four other dudes skipped school, dropped acid, popped into a small ass '88 Dodge Omni, and went to the Science Museum in Richmond, because we were high-minded delinquents. My 4-year-old was right at the cusp of not being able to handle such a gigantic surround-sound movie, and the whitewater rapids scenes caused her to curl up in my lap and hide her face. The movie was good like most Imaxes movies, except they always have to have some sort of save-the-earth bent, and be like, "You know, the Colorado River is almost dried up because of overuse by man. So now watch us ride through these awesome rapids." And then at the end, they tell you to get different showerheads to save 500 gallons of water a year.
An eventual thing I'm gonna do when I win the lottery, to help expedite wasting my money and being poor, thus pure, again, is buy me a museum with one of the Imaxxes in it, and start hiring people to make hellbent Imaxxes, like instead of awesome whitewater shit, you walk through a ghetto ass neighborhood, and then have to run, camera in first person, because some dude is gonna rob you. Or that really nice space age shit they do at the beginning of Imaxxes to show you how awesome it could be but they only do it for ten seconds? I'd make a whole movie of that, like surround-sound Tron 2008. Because most of those movies are geared towards drug abuse, but then they put them in science museums and confuse the issue. Or Imaxxes porn, but some high concept porn, like about how conventional farming is so wasteful of resources, and then you pick up some hot earth mama in Whole Foods and have sex with her, then explain how organic farming is so much better, a couple hot hippie chicks make out while weeding on a carrot farm or something, or probably zucchinis so they can be used erotically. That'd be a great Imaxxes movie, and would still be as scientific as the Grand Canyon one I watched.
They just banned having a strip club across the street from the Science Museum in Richmond, because a Children's Museum is right beside it, and didn't want to expose kids to that type of shit. But I remember when that shit first opened - the Science Museum - and my school taking a field trip there, to the big city of Richmond, and there was a porn theater right across the street. I guess porn was more acceptable then, not yet so far removed from it's glory days and golden age of Holmes and Seka and the like.
(As a side note, I had an older guy I worked with when I was 16 convince me that I should try acid at least once, just to see hallucinatory things and realize everything I think I know is not necessarily what I know or what it is. I am very thankful for his influence on my life back then. If you are a lost teenager wasting time inside the internets, I encourage you to do hallucinogenics to expand yourself. But don't sit in front of the computer when you do it. Mechanisms like a computer can be too much when realizing reality is totally subjective.)
An eventual thing I'm gonna do when I win the lottery, to help expedite wasting my money and being poor, thus pure, again, is buy me a museum with one of the Imaxxes in it, and start hiring people to make hellbent Imaxxes, like instead of awesome whitewater shit, you walk through a ghetto ass neighborhood, and then have to run, camera in first person, because some dude is gonna rob you. Or that really nice space age shit they do at the beginning of Imaxxes to show you how awesome it could be but they only do it for ten seconds? I'd make a whole movie of that, like surround-sound Tron 2008. Because most of those movies are geared towards drug abuse, but then they put them in science museums and confuse the issue. Or Imaxxes porn, but some high concept porn, like about how conventional farming is so wasteful of resources, and then you pick up some hot earth mama in Whole Foods and have sex with her, then explain how organic farming is so much better, a couple hot hippie chicks make out while weeding on a carrot farm or something, or probably zucchinis so they can be used erotically. That'd be a great Imaxxes movie, and would still be as scientific as the Grand Canyon one I watched.
They just banned having a strip club across the street from the Science Museum in Richmond, because a Children's Museum is right beside it, and didn't want to expose kids to that type of shit. But I remember when that shit first opened - the Science Museum - and my school taking a field trip there, to the big city of Richmond, and there was a porn theater right across the street. I guess porn was more acceptable then, not yet so far removed from it's glory days and golden age of Holmes and Seka and the like.
(As a side note, I had an older guy I worked with when I was 16 convince me that I should try acid at least once, just to see hallucinatory things and realize everything I think I know is not necessarily what I know or what it is. I am very thankful for his influence on my life back then. If you are a lost teenager wasting time inside the internets, I encourage you to do hallucinogenics to expand yourself. But don't sit in front of the computer when you do it. Mechanisms like a computer can be too much when realizing reality is totally subjective.)
Friday, September 26
100 VINYLZ: #91 - The World is a Ghetto LP by War
(1972, United Artists)
War is known mostly for their bigger hits like “Low Rider” and “Why Can’t We Be Friends”, but they made a bunch of great full-length records. War, led by Lee Oskar, was a black and hispanic funk ass band, but you probably knew that already. This was always my favorite full-length by them (most notable for the single “Cisco Kid”) because it was a nice concept record, and I’m a sucker for concept records, especially nowadays where everything is downloaded by the tracks or as a whole, unrared, and then you check each track one time real quick and dump half of them before giving any of them a full couple time listen through to truly get into.
I originially copped this on a used cassette when I lived with this hippie chick Lynne that I mistakenly thought I was in love with. She had a steady tendency to flip out on dudes and bail on them for the next guy that came along, even though she fell in love with each one. But I was such a strong upstanding dude, that when this hit her one time, she just wanted some space for a few days to figure it all out, instead of her standard moving onto the next guy mode. So I crashed on a mattress on the concrete floor in the basement of my buddy Scan’s house. The washing machine drained right beside me and the water would overrun and flow into the drain on the floor, like a foot over from where I had the mattress, and there were mice and shit everywhere, and it smelled like a juicy pussy with lots of hair had been kept confined inside of tight blue jeans for three days straight all the time. And I had this shitty little five dollar radio from the ghetto ass five-and-dime store a couple blocks away, that I’d play this cassette in. Being I was all young and introspective, wondering if this girl I loved was gonna love me, and whether I should even bother, sitting in a shitty basement, not far from finishing college, and just really lost as fuck and mired in one of those dirty environments that works like an acid trip and causes you to over-evaluate your life from every angle and not really like any of what you see. This tape was, and still is, the perfect soundtrack for such a freak-out.
We got back together, but it was only like another nine months before she freaked out again, after we had moved across town where she had a car and I had a 10-speed, and she started hanging with some other dude (actually Willie Adler who ended up being a guitarist in Lamb of God and is a good ass dude and I love to this day, mostly because she ended up leaving his dumb ass too, so we bonded in crazy bitch), so I was couch crashing while my dog Waylon lived with her. Actually she went on the road and was supposed to come back a certain day, and I was gone that day, at my boy Scan’s again, with Boogie Brown and Cock Diesel Robby, and me and Boogie Brown and Scan split a quarter bag of shrooms, which meant I took like half of it, and I was booming man. I rode my 10-speed across the nickel bridge at like four in the morning with a blood red harvest moon rising over the James, and I was freestyling at the sky and I remember thinking it was the best freestyle I ever had done ever EVER! but of course, never remembered even half an idea from it, heading back to southside to my house where the bitch ass ex, her new boyfriend potentially, anything could be waiting. Instead the house was empty still, just my dog Waylon who had tore up a bunch of aloe vera plants. I stared at Waylon sitting on the bed, which is what I liked to do when tripping, and to this day I think that’s why we were so close as man and dog, it was some twisted brainwashing bullshit. I think I tricked him into thinking I was part dog, or I accidentally shot human powers into his brain while on shrooms or something, which is why he had to sleep only on beds or couches mostly.
Next morning, I packed a backpack full of shit and hit the road myself, Greyhound riding out west. When I got back, I just grabbed my basic shit, as the ex and Willie were official, and I left a lot of music behind. I called one time back to my old house where they lived, and no one was home, and the answering machine came on and it was a clip from THIS FUCKING TAPE! Oh man, the ridiculousness of it all. I would say that’s ironic, but the term’s been thrown around in so many strange ways I don’t even remember what it’s supposed to mean anymore.
At some point since then, though, I got this on vinyl. Actually, twice that’s happened, because my first copy was scratched up as fuck, so I upgraded one day when I ran across it again, though I think I still have both copies. One of them, I’ve been meaning to tape the cover of to the walls inside the camper, because it’s one of my favorite album covers. Everything so grey yet happy. It is raining outside and I am typing click-clack-clickity-clack shit all over a laptop, tin roof pattering, Statik Selektah mix show on the satellite radio... the world is a ghetto, but filled with such good times blasting horns. Fuck it man, the apocalypse is gonna be a party.
Thursday, September 25
100 VINYLZ: #92 - Woodstock Mountains: More Music From Mud Acres LP by Various Artists
(1977, Rounder Records)
My dad used to play the Woodstock soundtrack, which out of like 200 songs had about 3 that were worth my time, and that was as a young and naive doofus, mostly interspersing the bowl hits he took while it was playing with stories of how his buddy Bozo went there and climbed the lighting rigs and there was a picture of him in the papers. Bozo has a real name and lives not too far from me and I enjoy visiting his waterless cabin on a mountain with no interior walling in half of it. We sit there and drink a 12-pack and compare paranoias. Those guys like Bozo and my dad (aka Tuna) were just as much redneck as they were hippie, and they sort of twisted my attitude towards hippies into something positive until I grew up, went to college, and met well-to-do (meaning pretentious) hippies my age, and learned that they are full of shit, but a really bad type of full of shit where they try to force they bullshit on you because they know what’s best for you better than you do, like conservative Christians, just with bean sprouts instead of Bibles.
Anyways, the whole Woodstock party was okay I guess, although if I wanted to go somewhere and listen to music really loud while tripping balls, the last place I’d want to be is around a hundred thousand other motherfuckers. But I guess a bunch of people ended up stranded there in upstate New York, to this day even, and they turned a couple small towns into Obama sign factories and coffee shops with rural wi-fi, and artisans galore, which is a term who people who aren’t real artists but are fairly pretentious about what they make use. This is an album done by a pack of such settled artists, who held a weekend jam session, but with the recording machines a-running. If Woodstock the festival was the naked, drugged-up freakfest of a Saturday night party, this album would be the post-hangover, mellower late Sunday afternoon back porch music while the womenfolks are cooking up some butternut squashes and roasting a couple of chickens. It’s also probably the type of mellowed-out folksy shit that the loudest parts of the internets would never love. But I got no shame.
The record features Happy and Artie Traum (I have no idea if they’re famous or not, but that is funny pair of names to say; I think they’re brothers, meaning they shared a mother, not a blunt), John Sebastian (the dude who did the theme song to Welcome Back, Kotter), Paul Butterfield (of Paul Butterfield Blues Band fame), and Roly Salley. Quickly consulting the internet, I found out that this record was famous because it is the first recording of “Killing the Blues” by the aforementioned Salley, which I guess became a famous song because some later more famous homos have done the song in the past decade or two. But I dig this record for songs like “Bluegrass Boy” and “Waiting for a Train”, slow-moving, hobo country boy fish out of water songs. I could go sit out in my 18 foot borrowed camper trailer and listen to shit like that spin on the turns table all night long, sipping on some homebrews and maybe smoking a bowl (haha, just like my old man used to... what a fuckin’ loser I am sometimes). I actually just used a three parts of a song off this album to make a weird ass beat for my new alter-ego rap bullshit called The Ancient Hobo with pitch-shifted vocals.
The odd thing about this record is I bought it years ago in Richmond at this now-gone record store called Memory Lane Records that was run by a weird ponytailed guy who would talk to you (or at least me, with my retardar) about the mail wrestling league he was in where you would mail a postcard to another guy you were having a by-mail wrestling match with and it would have your next three moves, and then he would do it. I never did figure out how that would work or why you would do it. I bet the internet exploded that guy’s mind - every record ever for sale and plus all sorts of wrestling dork games. But that’s where I got this bama. And then I never saw it again. Until a month or so ago, when the PSY/OPS told me some dude in Goochland was selling off thousands of records on the side of the road in front of his house for a dollar each. I had to check that out. He was a weird ponytailed guy too, kind of like if me and my dad were brothers and we had a middle brother between us. He tried to sell his shit at Plan 9, but they told him he’d get like a dime a record, and he didn’t want to mess with online selling because he wouldn’t buy anything that he couldn’t see and touch, so he didn’t trust anybody else who would do such a crazy thing. He had thousands of records, and not much I wanted, because he had more records that I also have from my weird redneck/hippie sections than I’ve ever seen. It was disturbing, to the point I was looking at the guy, being all anal about certain records and thumbing through an old issue of Club magazine that I got all freaked out like he was me in the holographic universe, but somewhere where I went right at a fork, he went left, and that’s how it ended up for me/him. He was moving to Colorado and it all had to fit in the back of his Blazer, because it was a one-way trip, so he was selling it all. He had a second copy of this record, that I almost bought to double up my copy of this record, but if I had started buying up doubles of shit that was important to me, I would’ve dropped another $100 at this guy’s place on the side of 522 between Gum Springs and Goochland Courthouse. And plus, there was some half-wit painter following me around, talking about how his older brother used to play with Toby Keith or some shit that was driving me mad.
NFL WK 4: AFC North & East teams
#1: BUFFALO BILLS (3-0, 2nd overall)
Yeah, I should just go ahead and point out that my highly-flawed, completely-mathematical formula really is useless until after like the fifth week of the season, once everything has settled down. How else to explain the Bills being the overall second-ranked team in the NFL at this point? But it shows something too, that with the Patriots Brady-less, and Peyton Manning and the Colts looking battle-worn already, it's kinda wide open where almost anybody can win the Super Bowl this year. I mean, the Cowboys look like the best team, but come on, they're a regular season team, not a playoff team. But the Bills have sopped up everything on their plate thus far. If they can stay straight, and with Marcus Stroud's domineering personality on defense, with the AFC wide open now, they could get a proper chance to lose another Super Bowl.
#2: PITTSBURGH STEELERS (2-1, 8th overall)
The offensive line is in shambles, and Big Ben is being reduced to a taller David Carr/Patrick Ramsey, just with a hamburger named after him... you know, enough of this bullshit. I try too fucking hard to be too fucking soft sometimes. You know why the Steelers are always relevant? Their uniforms. Ominous black to endear mongoloid blood-thirsty linemen and linebackers, yet has that flashy yellow to attract the retard-styled skill position types. Black and yellow. This is why they always end up being remotely relevant, and also why a Patriots tumble could go to the bottom fairly fast, because they have shitty uniforms. Notice the Steelers don't be revamping their shit with new zubaz kwanzaa trim or eurofag slicy parts down the jersey into the pant legs. Straight up black and yellow. Shit, this fact alone makes it impossible for them to ever be worse than like third in their division on their worst years.
#3: MIAMI DOLPHINS (1-2, 13th overall)
The Dolphins are, for me, the Cowboys of the AFC, which mean they are unloveable crackheads, scumbags, and fuckfaces. Don Shula and Bill Parcels make perfect bedfellows... old self-important shitheads sitting around on boats casting lines at wild marlin that they'll never pull in on their own because they'll just get the help to break any sweats necessary. But being the AFC East is kind of the NFL's godless division, with nobody really worth loving at all, I still hope for the Dolphins to be successful.
#4: BALTIMORE RAVENS (2-0, 15th overall)
I've got a homeboy (which is funny to say, because this dude is whiter than fuck) who is a Ravens fan. This is in our circle of anarcho-hippie earth fruits, who never like sports. I guess that's more of my wife's circle, but I don't go out of my way to kick it with nobody, so I end up having these types congregating around my proximity more often than I'd probably like of my own volition. Nonetheless, this dude is an actual football fan, with an actual team he has loved for years (dude was unfortunate enough to be from Maryland), yet we've never gotten up to watch the footballs together. He and his wife rent some land and do some crazy corn stalk maze this time of year, so it's always a couple weeks after Halloween before he's not banking off NoVa white familial discretionary incomes, and after that, fuck it, who wants to leave the house with the wood stove cranking and a hunk of deer tenderloin slow roasting in the oven with some carrots and sweet onions and celery and red potatoes and rosemary twigs to go sit at some other asshole's house all Sunday afternoon?
#5: NEW ENGLAND PATRIOTS (2-1, 17th overall)
Oh man, it is so funny to see the Patriots suck. Bill Belichick's unparalleled genius was like the wizard's of Oz's curtain, yanked back by fucking Ronnie Brown, who has thus far been basically Cedric Benson but without all the arrests. The really hilarious thing is their defense is a hobbled together patchwork of aged bodies (I'm sure very familiar with the HGH far beyond just Rodney Harrison) with an expiration date for about the middle of October. And we all know how well Randy Moss plays with others when he's not getting "go long and I'll toss it high" playground patterns called for him, which is not really possible considering their new starting QB never even started in college. It's all really funny to watch, and years from now, when Patriots fans, with their gay-assed accents sounding like cocks poked their tonsils sideways, will be all like, "Yea, but we won 3 Super Bowls," and I can go, "Hahaha, you stupid fuck, you should've won like six but you kept fucking it up."
#6: NEW YORK JETS (1-2, 26th overall)
Man, my stupid fantasy football team (in a league with 20 teams, which means there's NO FUCKING BODY to pick up off the free agent pile) is saddled with shitty QBs. I just dumped stupid Jon Kitna, because I snagged Kerry Collins a couple weeks ago as a back-up to my starter, the Ol' Gunslinger. Favre is usually good for 3 TDs and 2 INTs each week, so being touchdowns score more than interceptions score against, I guess I coming out okay, so long as he can run up some yards too. Favre in New York is like the curtain being jerked back too, in that you can see basically Favre was winging it half the time in Green Bay. This will not be a glorious exit for the Ol' Gunslinger, which is sad, because there probably won't be any reason for NBC to flex schedule them onto Sunday night games later in the year for Madden to give Favre one more verbal fellatio for the road.
#7: CLEVELAND BROWNS (0-3, 27th overall)
Man, the Browns are way shittier than anybody expected them to be. I guess people pretended their no-name QB from last year wasn't really a no-name QB. They should just ride out this year, let Brady Quinn marinate on the sidelines, then come out gunning next year. It's sad, because Kellen Winslow's millionaire thug with a the word thoughts of a poetic encephalitic is being wasted a shithole half-foreclosed upon midwestern industrial wasteland. He should really play in Oakland. The NFL would really do itself a service to have a steering committee in place to make things like that happen. I know parity is great and all that shit, but it would make more sense for certain things to happen.
#8: CINCINNATI BENGALS (0-3, 28th overall)
Okay, I caught a touch of the Bengals/Giants game last week during commercimal breaks to the Skins game, and what I don’t understand is if Chad Johnson is such a closeted homo never-raised-around-grown-men attention douche and he legally changed his name at the beginning of the season, why is he wearing JOHNSON on his jersey? I remember the NFL even said he could wear OCHO CINCO, too. What a fucking pussy. I know inside the internets, retarded dinkery is seen as awesome, much in the same way as college town fags ten years ago wore mesh hats from truck stops, but this dude is fairly sad. And the worst part of it is he’s not doing shit anymore, which is just going to sink him into depression, which he will probably solve with retail therapy, which means after this year when no one else wants him and the Bengals dump him, he’s gonna be just another unemployed black dude who used to have some nice shit back in the day. Now, T.J. Houshmandeeznuts... that dude is the real deal. See, if there had been an NFL steering committee in place, he still would’ve ended up with the Bengals, because some ponytailed Hindu freak playing in Bengal uniforms is just about right. The only thing that could possibly make it better would be some posters and ad campaign with him in like some white tiger bikini shorts with two white tigers on leashes standing in a jungle scene. And of course a couple of fat-tittied bitches in some ragged pelt-like bikinis. But low cut as fuck. Actually, fuck it if we’re gonna imagineer some bullshit, just make them naked fat-tittied chicks, and we can take Houshmandezbollah out of it, and make one of the fat-tittied chicks my wife and the other one the cute dreadlocked chick from Whole Foods who said, “Excuse my big booty” to me one time, but there will be two white tigers on leashes, and it’ll be a jungle scene, but instead of a poster, it will be a home movie. Nah, fuck that too, because if pictures steal indian souls then moving cinemagraphicopy things must rape and pillage indian souls, and we are all indians inside, deep down, so I’d rather just be there to hang and soak it all in, firsthand, and do my best to remember it, rather than cheapen it with pictures or movies.
(frybread) Reading More
I have been reading little parts of books lately, which I haven’t messed with in a while. Mostly this comes from electronic paranoia, thinking too much internets and cell phones have made me a whole lot stupider. Like sometimes I don’t use CAPs when I’m supposed to, nor proper punctuation, because the internets have taughted me this. Actually, I just then put CAPs intead of typing out the word because I have been made so stupid I don’t remember which way is the right way to spell that type of capital/capitol. I guess I did read on in the internets too, but it was mostly quick blurbs of news stories or penthouse forum letters where I pretended I was fucking my biology teacher from ninth grade. I should probably aim for something better with my stupid brain than busting nuts into pink washcloths and then thinking “LOLOLOLOL” at people convinced Obama’s gonna win the election, as if it was as easy as organizing a martini party in a gentrified American neighborhood where everybody has to wear a funny hat.
One of the things I read this week was the dead David Foster Wallace’s (who I’d never read before he died, at least I don’t remember it) thing from Rolling Stone about John McCain’s campaign in 2000, where he was basically doing the Obama thing, just less photogenically. It helped me realize politics is stupid and for faggots, or hardcore Christians, who are just repressed faggots anyways. I love it when people say, “If you don’t vote, you can’t complain.” I had worked up in my mind a good response where I would go, in self-important douchey way, “Well, that’s like saying I have to get shot in a leg and if I don’t pick which one then I don’t get to complain about it. What if I don’t want to get shot in the leg?” And that works once or twice, but mostly it gets boring if you hear it more than that, which no one else would except for me, but I try to live my life in a way so as to entertain myself, and that wouldn’t be entertaining. So I dug out this little BB pistol I had, and keep it in my truck, and try to remember to carry it when I’m around people who tend to proselytize on the political tip, and if that comes up, which it has twice now, I pull it out and point it at them (I put a piece of bright green duct tape on it so they know, sort of, it’s not a real gun) and ask them “Which leg you want to get shot in?” Both times - a 30-something dude who gets arrested over living wages, and an older 50-something woman who gets reiki attunements regularly - they look confused. So I would repeat the question. Second time around would get stammering, and I shot them, dude in the left leg, woman in her right thigh because she’s chunky and was wearing a big ass dress, so I hoped it wouldn’t hurt her too much, and I said, “You’ve got no right to complain if you didn’t pick which leg,” and walked off. The dude fell down, as I hit him on the knee, and I felt bad just walking off like that, but I felt the point needed to be made.
One of the things I read this week was the dead David Foster Wallace’s (who I’d never read before he died, at least I don’t remember it) thing from Rolling Stone about John McCain’s campaign in 2000, where he was basically doing the Obama thing, just less photogenically. It helped me realize politics is stupid and for faggots, or hardcore Christians, who are just repressed faggots anyways. I love it when people say, “If you don’t vote, you can’t complain.” I had worked up in my mind a good response where I would go, in self-important douchey way, “Well, that’s like saying I have to get shot in a leg and if I don’t pick which one then I don’t get to complain about it. What if I don’t want to get shot in the leg?” And that works once or twice, but mostly it gets boring if you hear it more than that, which no one else would except for me, but I try to live my life in a way so as to entertain myself, and that wouldn’t be entertaining. So I dug out this little BB pistol I had, and keep it in my truck, and try to remember to carry it when I’m around people who tend to proselytize on the political tip, and if that comes up, which it has twice now, I pull it out and point it at them (I put a piece of bright green duct tape on it so they know, sort of, it’s not a real gun) and ask them “Which leg you want to get shot in?” Both times - a 30-something dude who gets arrested over living wages, and an older 50-something woman who gets reiki attunements regularly - they look confused. So I would repeat the question. Second time around would get stammering, and I shot them, dude in the left leg, woman in her right thigh because she’s chunky and was wearing a big ass dress, so I hoped it wouldn’t hurt her too much, and I said, “You’ve got no right to complain if you didn’t pick which leg,” and walked off. The dude fell down, as I hit him on the knee, and I felt bad just walking off like that, but I felt the point needed to be made.
Tuesday, September 23
Homemade Song of the Week: "Dying Breed" by Prolo
"Dying Breed" is another song off of the last Prolo CD called The Long Haired Lounger/The Dread Headed Stranger. At this point, I was into writing hooks for every song before I even wrote lyrics for it. That didn't last long with me because I have a natural indy rapper's distrust of anything fun like a catchy hook. For the underground-happy indy rapper, music is meant to be painful and unenjoyable and involves deciphering and footnotes, not catchy hooks.
Anyways, I dig this song a ton, especially the second verse. Were my father still alive, and somebody told him I made rapping musics, and he confronted me about it belligerently after a fifth of Jim Beam one Saturday afternoon, this would be the song I'd play for him to ease his worried mind.
Anyways, I dig this song a ton, especially the second verse. Were my father still alive, and somebody told him I made rapping musics, and he confronted me about it belligerently after a fifth of Jim Beam one Saturday afternoon, this would be the song I'd play for him to ease his worried mind.
Monday, September 22
S14: Worst College Football Teams
A lot of hype is given to the college football, and how "EVERY GAME COUNTS" because one loss and you're done. Which, of course, begs the question, if it's one and done then all the games afterwards matter once you're already sitting tight with a goose egg in the win column after the first month of the football? Of course not. But it's college, and a lot of times, small colleges, and it's just local jocks of various reknown playing to stave off their own historical embarrassment. I lived with a guy one time while he was linebacker at a Division III school with a fairly decent sports history, and they went 0-10. It ate him alive, because the school hadn't gone 0-10 in ever, except while he was there.
Well, some schools just don't have much hope, even as we've just actually turned the calendar to fall. They've already been beaten and blundered from goal post to goal post a couple of times, but have to finish out the season nonetheless. Here are your fourteen worst college football programs thus far this season, with the simple criteria being least number of wins (namely, none) and then worst margins of defeat.
#1: Lincoln University Lions (0-3, 47.33 average margin of defeat) - The Lincoln Lions are making their return to college football after a 48-year hiatus, rejoining NCAA Division II's traditionally black CIAA conference. Thus far, it has not gone well, following up a 63 to nothing loss to CIAA powerhouse Fayetteville State with a 56 to 7 whipping at Shaw University this past weekend.
#2: Bethany Swedes (0-2, 46.50 avg. defeat) - The first of five NAIA teams in the list, out of the Kansas Collegiate Athletic Conference. I figured even though the NAIA is like this outlaw organization with everybody mostly thinking the NCAA means everything in college sports, I'd include them, because it's small colleges like any other, and people are putting forth the effort. Well, I guess. Bethany lost to Southwest Baptist University last weekend, 83 to 6. That marked the first time in seven years that Southwest Baptist had won two games in a row.
#3: Indiana State Sycamores (0-3, 44.00 avg. defeat) - Member of the Football College Sub-division's Missouri Valley Conference, getting their asses handed to them directionally. Last weekend, they were 48 to 3 losers to Northern Illinois. The week before, it was at the hands of Eastern Illinois, 38 to 3. And they started the season, dropping one to Eastern Michigan, 52 to 0.
#4: Quincy Hawks (0-3, 43.00 avg. defeat) - Quincy, of the NAIA's Mid-States Football Association, is only a school of about 1200 students. This past weekend, it stepped way over its head to get whooped by FCS (okay okay, Division I-AA) team Central Arkansas on the road, 51 to 6. They got the opening field goal, but that was about it, although they did clock a $25,000 check for the game, probably subsidizing most of their athletics programs for the year.
#5: Newport News Apprentice School Builders (0-1, 42.00 avg. defeat) - Newport News, from Division III's Atlantic Central Football Conference, continues a rich NCAA tradition of maritime trade schools fielding football teams that accomplish nothing beyond ridiculous defeats. The Builders started their season this past weekend with a 42 to 0 loss at home against UVA-Wise.
#6: Tabor College Blue Jays (0-2, 40.50 avg. defeat) - Another member of NAIA's Kansas Collegiate Athletic Conference, which means they will at least get to face-off at Bethany College the second week of October.
#7: Bluffton Beavers (0-2, 38.00 avg. defeat) - Straight out of the Heartland Collegiate Athletic Conference in the NCAA's Division III, the Beavers ain't hitting on much. They did scrape together a touchdown in a 34 to 7 loss to Adrian this past weekend, their first score of the year after a 49 to 0 rape at the hands of Alma College to start the season.
#8: Principia College Panthers (0-3, 38.00 avg. defeat) - Principia is a traditional NCAA Division III powerless program, running up terrible losing records year after year, but shifting their league affiliation this year to the Saint Louis Intercollegiate Athletic Conference, in its first year of having a football class since 1999. But things haven't changed much. Opening week, they gave Lewis & Clark their first win in three years. Two weeks ago, the Panthers crossed mid-field against Whittier for the second time in the game, with about a minute left to play. And they got crushed 40 to 0 last week against Crown. Nowhere to go but yadda yadda yadda.
#9: Dordt College Defenders (0-3, 36.00 avg. defeat) - Fielding a varsity level football team for the first time ever, in the Great Plains Athletic Conference, one of the NAIA's power conferences. In other words, the Defenders are unproven bait in a small pond with bigger fish. Like last weekend, when NAIA #6 ranked Morningside stomped Dordt 62 to 0.
#10: Culver-Stockton Wildcats (0-3, 36.00 avg. defeat) - Our fifth and final NAIA representative, from the Heart of America Athletic Conference, playing low quality football in Canton, Missouri, in some sort of bizarro experiment. They also clocked their grip travelling to lose 70 to 7 at South Dakota (another FCS/Div. I-AA team), which I guess was an improvement, as they'd been outscored 45 to nothing their first two games.
#11: North Texas Mean Green (0-3, 35.67 avg. defeat) - The only Division I school on this list, albeit a lowly member of the second-thought Sun Belt Conference. After a double drubbing from LSU and Hurricane Ike two Saturdays ago, they at least got a week off to regroup. This is not a good team though, having lost 15 of their last 17 games.
#12: Lawrence Vikings (0-2, 35.50 avg. defeat) - A Division III school, member of the Midwest Conference, they improved last weekend, only losing to St. Norbert 44 to 18, which was a marked improvement from their first game's manhandling at the hands of Monmouth College, 47 to 2. Having what was probably a gimme safety is almost worst than just dropping a goose egg on the scoreboard.
#13: Lock Haven Bald Eagles (0-4, 33.75 avg. defeat) - From Division II's Pennsylvania State Athletic Conference, losing the past two weeks 45 to 7 (against Indiana, Pennsylvania) and 36 to 0 (against Shippensburg). Again, nowhere to go but you know the rest.
#14: Adams State Grizzlies (0-4, 33.00 avg. defeat) - Another Division II team, from the Rocky Mountain Athletic Conference, they are an enigmatic team. Two weeks ago, they scored the first 16 points against Chadron State, but ended up losing 37 to 26. Three weeks ago, against Division I Southern Utah, they had outgained them offensively, 310 yards to 229, but were still down 35 to 0 at halftime. Clearly, they are trying to claw their way out of being a Division II bottom feeder.
Well, some schools just don't have much hope, even as we've just actually turned the calendar to fall. They've already been beaten and blundered from goal post to goal post a couple of times, but have to finish out the season nonetheless. Here are your fourteen worst college football programs thus far this season, with the simple criteria being least number of wins (namely, none) and then worst margins of defeat.
#1: Lincoln University Lions (0-3, 47.33 average margin of defeat) - The Lincoln Lions are making their return to college football after a 48-year hiatus, rejoining NCAA Division II's traditionally black CIAA conference. Thus far, it has not gone well, following up a 63 to nothing loss to CIAA powerhouse Fayetteville State with a 56 to 7 whipping at Shaw University this past weekend.
#2: Bethany Swedes (0-2, 46.50 avg. defeat) - The first of five NAIA teams in the list, out of the Kansas Collegiate Athletic Conference. I figured even though the NAIA is like this outlaw organization with everybody mostly thinking the NCAA means everything in college sports, I'd include them, because it's small colleges like any other, and people are putting forth the effort. Well, I guess. Bethany lost to Southwest Baptist University last weekend, 83 to 6. That marked the first time in seven years that Southwest Baptist had won two games in a row.
#3: Indiana State Sycamores (0-3, 44.00 avg. defeat) - Member of the Football College Sub-division's Missouri Valley Conference, getting their asses handed to them directionally. Last weekend, they were 48 to 3 losers to Northern Illinois. The week before, it was at the hands of Eastern Illinois, 38 to 3. And they started the season, dropping one to Eastern Michigan, 52 to 0.
#4: Quincy Hawks (0-3, 43.00 avg. defeat) - Quincy, of the NAIA's Mid-States Football Association, is only a school of about 1200 students. This past weekend, it stepped way over its head to get whooped by FCS (okay okay, Division I-AA) team Central Arkansas on the road, 51 to 6. They got the opening field goal, but that was about it, although they did clock a $25,000 check for the game, probably subsidizing most of their athletics programs for the year.
#5: Newport News Apprentice School Builders (0-1, 42.00 avg. defeat) - Newport News, from Division III's Atlantic Central Football Conference, continues a rich NCAA tradition of maritime trade schools fielding football teams that accomplish nothing beyond ridiculous defeats. The Builders started their season this past weekend with a 42 to 0 loss at home against UVA-Wise.
#6: Tabor College Blue Jays (0-2, 40.50 avg. defeat) - Another member of NAIA's Kansas Collegiate Athletic Conference, which means they will at least get to face-off at Bethany College the second week of October.
#7: Bluffton Beavers (0-2, 38.00 avg. defeat) - Straight out of the Heartland Collegiate Athletic Conference in the NCAA's Division III, the Beavers ain't hitting on much. They did scrape together a touchdown in a 34 to 7 loss to Adrian this past weekend, their first score of the year after a 49 to 0 rape at the hands of Alma College to start the season.
#8: Principia College Panthers (0-3, 38.00 avg. defeat) - Principia is a traditional NCAA Division III powerless program, running up terrible losing records year after year, but shifting their league affiliation this year to the Saint Louis Intercollegiate Athletic Conference, in its first year of having a football class since 1999. But things haven't changed much. Opening week, they gave Lewis & Clark their first win in three years. Two weeks ago, the Panthers crossed mid-field against Whittier for the second time in the game, with about a minute left to play. And they got crushed 40 to 0 last week against Crown. Nowhere to go but yadda yadda yadda.
#9: Dordt College Defenders (0-3, 36.00 avg. defeat) - Fielding a varsity level football team for the first time ever, in the Great Plains Athletic Conference, one of the NAIA's power conferences. In other words, the Defenders are unproven bait in a small pond with bigger fish. Like last weekend, when NAIA #6 ranked Morningside stomped Dordt 62 to 0.
#10: Culver-Stockton Wildcats (0-3, 36.00 avg. defeat) - Our fifth and final NAIA representative, from the Heart of America Athletic Conference, playing low quality football in Canton, Missouri, in some sort of bizarro experiment. They also clocked their grip travelling to lose 70 to 7 at South Dakota (another FCS/Div. I-AA team), which I guess was an improvement, as they'd been outscored 45 to nothing their first two games.
#11: North Texas Mean Green (0-3, 35.67 avg. defeat) - The only Division I school on this list, albeit a lowly member of the second-thought Sun Belt Conference. After a double drubbing from LSU and Hurricane Ike two Saturdays ago, they at least got a week off to regroup. This is not a good team though, having lost 15 of their last 17 games.
#12: Lawrence Vikings (0-2, 35.50 avg. defeat) - A Division III school, member of the Midwest Conference, they improved last weekend, only losing to St. Norbert 44 to 18, which was a marked improvement from their first game's manhandling at the hands of Monmouth College, 47 to 2. Having what was probably a gimme safety is almost worst than just dropping a goose egg on the scoreboard.
#13: Lock Haven Bald Eagles (0-4, 33.75 avg. defeat) - From Division II's Pennsylvania State Athletic Conference, losing the past two weeks 45 to 7 (against Indiana, Pennsylvania) and 36 to 0 (against Shippensburg). Again, nowhere to go but you know the rest.
#14: Adams State Grizzlies (0-4, 33.00 avg. defeat) - Another Division II team, from the Rocky Mountain Athletic Conference, they are an enigmatic team. Two weeks ago, they scored the first 16 points against Chadron State, but ended up losing 37 to 26. Three weeks ago, against Division I Southern Utah, they had outgained them offensively, 310 yards to 229, but were still down 35 to 0 at halftime. Clearly, they are trying to claw their way out of being a Division II bottom feeder.
Sunday, September 21
J.J. Krupert's September Gaypod Mix
With the American economy hopefully about to collapse upon itself in the coming weeks, I figured I might as well tap out that last fifty bucks on my Best Buy card and get one of those stupid iPod Shuffles (from here on referred to as my gaypod). Actually, I bought it a month or so ago after my stupid satellite radio lighter plug charger burned up the second lighter socket in my stupid truck, and I didn't feel like ordering more bullshit being the set-up, since I got a new satellite receiver less than a year ago, had burned up both sockets, fucked up my factory receiver, plus something else I can't remember... Oh yeah, I tore a bunch of shit up trying to put the new receiver in, out of frustration, because I'm the type of dude who tears shit up when he gets mad. So now I have regular radio and the gaypod. The gaypod holds very little music, considering I have far too much music - couple thousand records, stacks of CDs, plus two external hard drives chock full of bullshit, so basically all I can do is stuff a few things on there, and it's survival of the fittest. So to help justify my financial indiscretions, and just because my brain is retarded and can only think about things and ultimately accept them if there's some alterior word-based result from it, I decided at the end of each month, I would pontificate upon the ten most played songs from it, and dump them from my gaypod forever, but make a mix out of them to have for my truck CD player, and share this dumb unimportant shit all with you.
I named my gaypod J.J. Krupert, because my 4-year-old daughter at the time I had gotten it was really into playing a DJ Z-Trip CD (Uneasy Listening, I think maybe volume 2... it makes a really important deal on the cover about how cutting edge it is and how rare the CD is and how blah blah fucking blah), and she'd be wearing like retarded play clothes outfits of ballet skirts, Mexican wrestling masks and shiny silver chemises, doing crazy dances to DJ Z-Trip's early mash-up stylings. She asked me who it was and I told her, "DJ Z-Trip," but it translated into her insane mind as "J.J. Krupert". So DJ Z-Trip is now just called J.J. Krupert, and that's the title of my gaypod. And here were the top ten most played songs off it in August, though not necessarily in one through ten order, as I re-ordered the bullshit to try and make a sensible mix.
#1: "Angel of Sin" by Hank Williams III - Man, the Straight to Hell double CD that Tricephus dropped in I guess 2006 is one of my favorite shits ever, and probably the last actual CD that I actually bought at an actual store and didn't get pissed that I didn't just steal from inside the internets. He's got a new jambo supposedly coming out next month, recorded entirely in his house, which is good news too because I think the half-screwed and chopped second disc of Straight to Hell is better than the first. "Angel of Sin" is off the first disc, and is some real genetic deficiencient alcoholic ass heartbreak country. Radio country is so sterile and soundalike, and alt.country is so fucking stupid and college faggified most of the time, it's good to know Hank III is out there. Actually, that parallel shittiness is a lot like hip hop too, with mainstream crap being predictable and underground shit being just as predictable just in a different boring ass way. I guess music is just fucked. Thanks a lot greedy record industry Jews. Keep pushing shit ass Shooter Jennings as some sort of outlaw at everybody; I'm sure that'll turn it all around.
#2: "Happy Hour" by Corntooth - Corntooth is a Richmond country group featuring my homeboy and old roommate Matt on vox (who normally plays in a killer ass rock-n-roll band called RPG, who have a new CD out now), and other Richmond music all-stars like the guitarist from Lamb of God and some dude from Gwar too I think. But Matt and his wife Janey do the sanging in Corntooth, and it's a fucking tag team punch of perfect sad country greatness. My biggest problem, as hinted above, with alt.country labelled music is it usually comes across as suburban college kids attempting to act country. I have hated many musics people who know me and know my self-destructive rural roots have tried to convince me properly represents the proud crappiness of past experiences you get growing up in dirtbag places with lawless god-fearers as most role models. Most of those musics miss the fucking point, and are more a Hee Haw skit at a liberal art college than actual experience. "Happy Hour", and Corntooth in general, is some real ass shit, even if it is from trendy ass hipster doofus Richmond town. You can hear it in Matt and Janey's voices. (Janey's is like Janis Joplin if there were no hippies and Janis ended up working as a waitress in a diner for the first fifteen years of her money-earning life.)
#3: "Paycheck to Paycheck" by Corntooth - This is probably my favorite fucking love song ever. My family is broke as fuck (again), using credit card that should've sensibly been cut up when we slipped out the noose earlier this year to buy bacon for Sunday breakfast, but fuck it man. I got beer, I got a sexy ass wife, three good kids, a ragged house in the country, and I'm not dead yet.
#4: "The Mountain" by Steve Earle & the Del McCoury Band - My interest in hearing Steve Earle comes and goes. I think overall he's overrated, and all his stuff is not as great as it gets made out to be, probably because of his truly fucked life story of heroin addiction and shit. But when he is good and I am in the mood for his Kentucky hill williams twang, he can be right on. I guess I got fired up for him again watching the last season of The Wire when it came out on DVD. But I found this whole CD he did with the Del McCoury Band on a hard drive's of music I got from my bro-in-law. This song, the title track off the CD, is just a sad, meandering song, of course being all conscious and talking about mountaintop removal and all that shit. But it's a great fucking song.
#5: "Asleep in the Desert" by ZZ Top - I've probably said it multiple times inside the internets, but Tejas by ZZ Top is one of the all-time great fucking albums. And this instrumental is the best song off of it. I have looped this instrumental and actually just listened to it for 9 hours straight before. Were I to ever become ridiculously wealthy, I would make sure one of my first wastes of money, after the platinum penis sheath with red diamond eyeballs, would be to hire Billy Gibbons to be in charge of keeping my gaypod filled with original theme music. I had been trying to think of anyone alive on this earth more awesome than Lemmy from Motorhead this week (you waste your mind's time in odd ways as a housepainter) and about the only thing I could come up with was Billy Gibbons.
#6: "Country Rap Tune" by Tow Down - I stayed in a hotel room with for-real internet a month or so back, and youtubed the video for this, as it's always been one of my favorite screwed and chopped classics, and I was shocked to see a goofy looking whiteboy with those hilarious-to-everyone-else style little braids, riding around in a Nissan painted up like the General Lee. I guess I had just assumed he would've been black, but I guess everybody sounds black when screwed and chopped with some slurring ass DJ Screw overdubs talking about having DVD screens in your car's headrest. I wonder whatever happened to Tow Down? Is he still doing shit? Or more likely in jail? Or did he cut the braids off and works at his dad's car lot now? Endless questions. Also, it always freaks me out when I listen to that DJ Shadow Essential mix and I hear the regular speed version of this song, as it sounds alien and hyper-speed. Once you go slack, you don't go back.
#7: "Straight Gangstaism" by the Geto Boys - Not so much a Geto Boys song as it was Big Mike and his partner 3-2, who were a group on Rap-a-Lot called The Convicts. They, according to a snippet I think I read in The Source over a decade ago, were roommates with Snoop Dogg the same time Dre was putting together Death Row, and after Willie D left the Geto Boys, part of the way James Prince kept The Convicts from signing with Death Row was making Big Mike the new Geto Boy. Worked for me, as I've always liked Big Mike's style, and honestly, Till Death Do Us Part is, in my opinion, the best Geto Boys CD from start-to-end there ever was. It doesn't have the radio hits like We Can't Be Stopped, but there are no weak segments. "Straight Gangstaism" starts being awesome with that catchy ass funk beat, and then once Big Mike and 3-2 stylishly slur all over the track about the carefree lifestyle of the urban outlaw, it's over. My compliments to the chef.
#8: "Uncle Sam Goddamn" by Brother Ali - I saw Brother Ali on tour last year in a small club (R.I.P. Starr Hill) and it was the best rap performance I ever did done see. I actually buoght his CD (used) afterwards, and for once the CD was lesser than the live performance. It sounded flatter from the studio, whereas most studio shit gets beefed up with overdubs and multi-tracks and protools trickery. Still though, in election season, I enjoy this song a lot. It's standard "the government sucks/can't trust those mother fucks" indy rapper content, but Brother Ali delivers it with such punch. At one point, the esteemed Expert Whiteboy panel of four had been working on a summertime Hip Hop 100 List of the 100 great living forces in the hips hop, and I was pushing for Ali to be high, based purely on potential. After years of indy rapper Rhymesayers Entertainment heavy touring, he did a tour last year where it was just him, Rakim, and Ghostface Killah. It got me excited to see what he cooks up next CD, having the elder example of those two to hang around for a couple months.
#9: "Uncommon Valor" by Jedi Mind Tricks - If this song stopped after the first verse, it would be just another stupid fucking indy rap song, because Vinnie Paz's rhyme, even if he is putting himself into the mind of a Vietnam vet, is very pedestrian. It's what you'd expect if someone was a rapper, distrustful of government, and wanted to do a song about Vietnam thirty years after the fact. But then R.A. the Rugged Man comes in with what I would say is the best rap song verse ever done by a white rapper. Linguistically, he fucks it up more so than I think I've ever heard him do. And the content of what he's saying is ridiculous, especially if you know that it comes from the personal experience of his own father. R.A. has those bighead downs syndrome siblings and shit like that, and is probably pretty lucky he wasn't born half-mutant from the agent orange his pops got showered with.
#10: "Simple Man" by Lynyrd Skynyrd - I love and respect greatly dead Lynyrd Skynyrd, even think of Ronnie Van Zant as a prophetic drunkard voice not given his propers for his redneck taoism. But still alive Lynyrd Skynyrd, playing at those outside ten dollar corporate enclave Wednesday after work shows, is a sad sad thing, kinda like I imagine that Samuel L. Jackson as former boxing champ movie was probably trying to be. I know a lot of people think Skynyrd is just racist fuckery, and others probably don't even hear this song, tuning it out as classic rock radio station overexposed tripe. But this is still one of my favorite songs. I put it at the end of the list, and thus the mix, to make it easier for you judgemental faggots who actually download the mix to skip it though.
I named my gaypod J.J. Krupert, because my 4-year-old daughter at the time I had gotten it was really into playing a DJ Z-Trip CD (Uneasy Listening, I think maybe volume 2... it makes a really important deal on the cover about how cutting edge it is and how rare the CD is and how blah blah fucking blah), and she'd be wearing like retarded play clothes outfits of ballet skirts, Mexican wrestling masks and shiny silver chemises, doing crazy dances to DJ Z-Trip's early mash-up stylings. She asked me who it was and I told her, "DJ Z-Trip," but it translated into her insane mind as "J.J. Krupert". So DJ Z-Trip is now just called J.J. Krupert, and that's the title of my gaypod. And here were the top ten most played songs off it in August, though not necessarily in one through ten order, as I re-ordered the bullshit to try and make a sensible mix.
#1: "Angel of Sin" by Hank Williams III - Man, the Straight to Hell double CD that Tricephus dropped in I guess 2006 is one of my favorite shits ever, and probably the last actual CD that I actually bought at an actual store and didn't get pissed that I didn't just steal from inside the internets. He's got a new jambo supposedly coming out next month, recorded entirely in his house, which is good news too because I think the half-screwed and chopped second disc of Straight to Hell is better than the first. "Angel of Sin" is off the first disc, and is some real genetic deficiencient alcoholic ass heartbreak country. Radio country is so sterile and soundalike, and alt.country is so fucking stupid and college faggified most of the time, it's good to know Hank III is out there. Actually, that parallel shittiness is a lot like hip hop too, with mainstream crap being predictable and underground shit being just as predictable just in a different boring ass way. I guess music is just fucked. Thanks a lot greedy record industry Jews. Keep pushing shit ass Shooter Jennings as some sort of outlaw at everybody; I'm sure that'll turn it all around.
#2: "Happy Hour" by Corntooth - Corntooth is a Richmond country group featuring my homeboy and old roommate Matt on vox (who normally plays in a killer ass rock-n-roll band called RPG, who have a new CD out now), and other Richmond music all-stars like the guitarist from Lamb of God and some dude from Gwar too I think. But Matt and his wife Janey do the sanging in Corntooth, and it's a fucking tag team punch of perfect sad country greatness. My biggest problem, as hinted above, with alt.country labelled music is it usually comes across as suburban college kids attempting to act country. I have hated many musics people who know me and know my self-destructive rural roots have tried to convince me properly represents the proud crappiness of past experiences you get growing up in dirtbag places with lawless god-fearers as most role models. Most of those musics miss the fucking point, and are more a Hee Haw skit at a liberal art college than actual experience. "Happy Hour", and Corntooth in general, is some real ass shit, even if it is from trendy ass hipster doofus Richmond town. You can hear it in Matt and Janey's voices. (Janey's is like Janis Joplin if there were no hippies and Janis ended up working as a waitress in a diner for the first fifteen years of her money-earning life.)
#3: "Paycheck to Paycheck" by Corntooth - This is probably my favorite fucking love song ever. My family is broke as fuck (again), using credit card that should've sensibly been cut up when we slipped out the noose earlier this year to buy bacon for Sunday breakfast, but fuck it man. I got beer, I got a sexy ass wife, three good kids, a ragged house in the country, and I'm not dead yet.
#4: "The Mountain" by Steve Earle & the Del McCoury Band - My interest in hearing Steve Earle comes and goes. I think overall he's overrated, and all his stuff is not as great as it gets made out to be, probably because of his truly fucked life story of heroin addiction and shit. But when he is good and I am in the mood for his Kentucky hill williams twang, he can be right on. I guess I got fired up for him again watching the last season of The Wire when it came out on DVD. But I found this whole CD he did with the Del McCoury Band on a hard drive's of music I got from my bro-in-law. This song, the title track off the CD, is just a sad, meandering song, of course being all conscious and talking about mountaintop removal and all that shit. But it's a great fucking song.
#5: "Asleep in the Desert" by ZZ Top - I've probably said it multiple times inside the internets, but Tejas by ZZ Top is one of the all-time great fucking albums. And this instrumental is the best song off of it. I have looped this instrumental and actually just listened to it for 9 hours straight before. Were I to ever become ridiculously wealthy, I would make sure one of my first wastes of money, after the platinum penis sheath with red diamond eyeballs, would be to hire Billy Gibbons to be in charge of keeping my gaypod filled with original theme music. I had been trying to think of anyone alive on this earth more awesome than Lemmy from Motorhead this week (you waste your mind's time in odd ways as a housepainter) and about the only thing I could come up with was Billy Gibbons.
#6: "Country Rap Tune" by Tow Down - I stayed in a hotel room with for-real internet a month or so back, and youtubed the video for this, as it's always been one of my favorite screwed and chopped classics, and I was shocked to see a goofy looking whiteboy with those hilarious-to-everyone-else style little braids, riding around in a Nissan painted up like the General Lee. I guess I had just assumed he would've been black, but I guess everybody sounds black when screwed and chopped with some slurring ass DJ Screw overdubs talking about having DVD screens in your car's headrest. I wonder whatever happened to Tow Down? Is he still doing shit? Or more likely in jail? Or did he cut the braids off and works at his dad's car lot now? Endless questions. Also, it always freaks me out when I listen to that DJ Shadow Essential mix and I hear the regular speed version of this song, as it sounds alien and hyper-speed. Once you go slack, you don't go back.
#7: "Straight Gangstaism" by the Geto Boys - Not so much a Geto Boys song as it was Big Mike and his partner 3-2, who were a group on Rap-a-Lot called The Convicts. They, according to a snippet I think I read in The Source over a decade ago, were roommates with Snoop Dogg the same time Dre was putting together Death Row, and after Willie D left the Geto Boys, part of the way James Prince kept The Convicts from signing with Death Row was making Big Mike the new Geto Boy. Worked for me, as I've always liked Big Mike's style, and honestly, Till Death Do Us Part is, in my opinion, the best Geto Boys CD from start-to-end there ever was. It doesn't have the radio hits like We Can't Be Stopped, but there are no weak segments. "Straight Gangstaism" starts being awesome with that catchy ass funk beat, and then once Big Mike and 3-2 stylishly slur all over the track about the carefree lifestyle of the urban outlaw, it's over. My compliments to the chef.
#8: "Uncle Sam Goddamn" by Brother Ali - I saw Brother Ali on tour last year in a small club (R.I.P. Starr Hill) and it was the best rap performance I ever did done see. I actually buoght his CD (used) afterwards, and for once the CD was lesser than the live performance. It sounded flatter from the studio, whereas most studio shit gets beefed up with overdubs and multi-tracks and protools trickery. Still though, in election season, I enjoy this song a lot. It's standard "the government sucks/can't trust those mother fucks" indy rapper content, but Brother Ali delivers it with such punch. At one point, the esteemed Expert Whiteboy panel of four had been working on a summertime Hip Hop 100 List of the 100 great living forces in the hips hop, and I was pushing for Ali to be high, based purely on potential. After years of indy rapper Rhymesayers Entertainment heavy touring, he did a tour last year where it was just him, Rakim, and Ghostface Killah. It got me excited to see what he cooks up next CD, having the elder example of those two to hang around for a couple months.
#9: "Uncommon Valor" by Jedi Mind Tricks - If this song stopped after the first verse, it would be just another stupid fucking indy rap song, because Vinnie Paz's rhyme, even if he is putting himself into the mind of a Vietnam vet, is very pedestrian. It's what you'd expect if someone was a rapper, distrustful of government, and wanted to do a song about Vietnam thirty years after the fact. But then R.A. the Rugged Man comes in with what I would say is the best rap song verse ever done by a white rapper. Linguistically, he fucks it up more so than I think I've ever heard him do. And the content of what he's saying is ridiculous, especially if you know that it comes from the personal experience of his own father. R.A. has those bighead downs syndrome siblings and shit like that, and is probably pretty lucky he wasn't born half-mutant from the agent orange his pops got showered with.
#10: "Simple Man" by Lynyrd Skynyrd - I love and respect greatly dead Lynyrd Skynyrd, even think of Ronnie Van Zant as a prophetic drunkard voice not given his propers for his redneck taoism. But still alive Lynyrd Skynyrd, playing at those outside ten dollar corporate enclave Wednesday after work shows, is a sad sad thing, kinda like I imagine that Samuel L. Jackson as former boxing champ movie was probably trying to be. I know a lot of people think Skynyrd is just racist fuckery, and others probably don't even hear this song, tuning it out as classic rock radio station overexposed tripe. But this is still one of my favorite songs. I put it at the end of the list, and thus the mix, to make it easier for you judgemental faggots who actually download the mix to skip it though.
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