J.J. Krupert Top 13 Countdown - July '10 #5: "Kissin' And Cussin'" by The Carolina Chocolate Drops

Part of the same reason the divorce rate has become so high is the reason you can’t punch people without getting charged with assault. People have been trained by movies to think marriage is this perfect match that works out wonderfully and is nothing but honeysuckle juice, firm titties, and clean cotton sheets with a high thread count. You’ve got to work at a relationship just like a friendship just like dealing with any other human being on this earth surface because every brain is all tweaked out in its own very special way. A man and a woman, in the comfort of their own house, should be able to get their fight on, preferably not physically but sometimes you know how it goes (so long as no one over-steps their physical domination, if it exists, like a father shooting basketball with his kid and not shooting from inside an imaginary line), and fighting is fighting. I have good long-time friends who come from similar backgrounds and we know it’s perfectly okay to punch each other from time to time, to work off the tension that builds up in a relationship, and get on with it. Now me and the ol’ lady don’t go around hitting each other – I’ve never laid a hand on her (at least not that way, hurr hurr hurr). But things build up and we’ll blow the fuck up like the World Trade on each other at times, and it clears the air, or at least allows us to freak out how we need to be freaking out.
This is a great relationship song, because relationships, six times out of ten, are a pain in the fucking ass. When three relationship involves sex, it’s nine times out of ten, and that’s rounding down from 9.4.
Carolina Chocolate Drops, I’m not real sure yet how to take them. I heard them on NPR one day, which means I have to be wary of them. They are genuine black-ish people playing genuine country-ish music. Out of every album they’ve made, I’ve found about three songs I dig. And we have some friends who come around, and the mama of the family, she digs her some Carolina Chocolate Drops. But she also hates Hank Williams III and the idea of screwed norteno music. Plus, she’s a black chick with skinhead tattoos. I guess that’s the Carolina Chocolate Drops perfect demographic.
STEAL "Kissin' And Cussin'"
NEXT UP: Cough syrup sippin’ and mom’s car steering wheel grippin’!

J.J. Krupert Top 13 Countdown - July '10 #6: "African Herbsman" by I Roy

Hippies catch a bad rap because of how bad the really clueless trustafarian type hippies are. But I grew up around redneck hippies who were the salt and brown sugar of the earth, and those were righteous ass people, and really gave me the moral foundation I live by to this day. Thing is, none of those types really listen to reggae music. With guys, reggae music is really the start of the slippery slope into unloungin’ ass hippie guy. With chicks it’s harder to tell, because vagina is a powerful force upon this earth, regardless of the rule of men in tight suits, and the possession of a yoni sort of alters how you roll through this world. Honestly, I can’t speak upon it because I rock it penis-style when it comes to gender, but I can respect the power of it.
But when it comes to dudes, the overwhelming love of reggae music by a hippie-type dude is usually a red flag. Although this can be confused by a love for dub music, which is like extra drugged out reggae music basically. Reggae is to fat joint as dub is to fat joint plus washing down a painkiller with a fat Guinness bottle or something, although those types don’t usually take pharmaceuticals very obviously, so it might be wild lettuce tincture or mushroom tea or something to give that extra echoey plucking sound the proper environmental conditions inside your brain. Nonetheless, I’m not sure what I was talking about except how hippies catch a bad rap in this world.
Basically, I am sitting outside at my picnic table smoking eight giant slabs of pork belly into bacon with apple and maple wood chips, and I’ve been drinking for about three hours now, pretty much since we got home from soccer this morning. Last time I coached the U-8 kids (under 8 years old), it was all I could do to get them to go towards the goal. Now, with this batch, I’m teaching them corner kick plays where they rush the goal and shit. It’s another level, and I’m not entirely comfortable being that guy. I think I will just buy them all pizza and be like fuck it one weekend after a game.
Soccer is a great joy of the borderline unloungin’/loungin’ reggae guy. The redneck hippies I grew up around, they didn’t even know soccer existed. It was pretty much football and horseshoes. But that was a different time. There wasn’t Wal-Marts or Islam back then. And for as fucked as Africa is, god bless them motherfuckers for having more Islams than Wal-Marts.
STEAL "African Herbsman"
NEXT UP: Bi-racial hipsterism!

s h e d b

scrap metal cattle shed comes
apart at the seams; goats and pigs
and calves all have hid inside

L.E.o.R. - Fall ’10 - 40 to 20 - 4 of 4

The last of the second round. Please share your opinions of things with me because it occupies my life as I wait for the second number to get carved into my tombstone while sitting at work waiting for it all to crumble in on me...
DAVID MANN vs. LEMMY KILMISTER
No matter how much Sons of Anarchy I watch, nothing will make me think David Mann posters are cooler than Lemmy Kilmister songs. Especially if you've ever heard that semi-acoustic version of "Ironhorse/Born to Lose". I have it somewhere but I'm not going to find it and upload it. Just come by the house. We will plug in the camper and the backyard speaker and I'll play it real fucking loud while we get up a game of bones or huvna at the picnic table. I found a couple of boxes of our spring lemon homebrew and have been drinking brown and tans with that and Guinness lately. It's a lovely combo, the perfect double dropkick of your daily blues.
Advantage: Lemmy Kilmister.
DAVID ALLAN COE vs. WILLIE NELSON
In case you haven't noticed, I pair these match-up of similar people, so as to avoid something stupid like all five of the final people being wrestlers or all five being musicians, or whatever catches my personal interior pop culture retard flow at an awkward angle just perfectly while I'm doing this. This really isn't a fair battle for the second round because both of these guys are not only immense figures in the wacky real world, but immense figures in my real life. I grew up with my dad usually drinking and stoning til all hours of the morning. Many late Friday and Saturday nights were spent with him demon driving a car home from Cumberland county all the way to the south end of Prince Edward after a long night of small stakes poker playing, with me laying down sideways in the back seat so as to not see the outside world swerving past, and to hope I made it home alive. And God bless the old man, he never killed me once. We never even wrecked. And if it was a good night at the kitchen poker table at Tip's house, and we were coming home late enough, he'd buy me some cinnamon-n-raisin biscuits from Hardee's on the drunken sneak through Farmville. When I was about ten or eleven, I used to get to sit with the grown folks and play poker too, with my parents giving me like five or six dollars in change to gamble. Really, it showed how much they trusted me, because no other kids ever got to do that in all the time (we're talking years) these weekends went on. And if there weren't enough grown folks chairs for all the grown folks players, I would sit in Tip's son's high chair with the top off of it (rest in peace Tony Tipton... shit rest in peace all of them, Tony, Tip, my dad, Stuart just died from cancer, memories full of wild back roads ghosts), so we'd joke, "Raven's been playing poker since he was sittin' in a high chair."
Anyways, the ol' man would wake up early in the morning, probably about the time his drunk wore off, and start playing music loud as fuck and cooking up big fat breakfasts and cleaning the house and just generally, it seems to me in retrospect, cleansing himself with a good life. Of course, come dark, if it was the weekend, he was right back at it. But a lot of Willie Nelson and David Allan Coe got played. And though I think that "Redheaded Stranger" may be one of the greatest songs ever (and definitely the best country album ever made), David Allan Coe is just such a lifelong kook. Finding his underground stuff, or all the full albums that the For the Record was compiled from, or even his early post-prison insane rock-n-roll blues country drunken nightmare shit that it's hard to believe people actually made back in the late '60s/early '70s. Willie Nelson is amazing, but there's a lot of square ass people who love them some Willie Nelson. You go to a David Allan Coe show, yeah there'll be some bullshit fratboys, but there's gonna be some real shit there. Bikers staring at cowboys who are laughing at the hippies, so to speak.
Advantage: David Allan Coe.
CHARLES MANSON vs. LEONARD PELTIER
Not even close.
Advantage: Charles Manson.
MIROSLAV TICHY vs. VOLLIS SIMPSON
Oh man, this is another pair that I kinda wish could both be the final five, except I'm matching them now because they are both crazy self-taught artist types. I seriously cannot say how much I love Vollis Simpson and the idea of this wacky Carolina farmer dude starting to weld metal things together to blow in the wind, with them growing ever larger and gaining notoriety worldwide for what he does. But Miroslav Tichy did a similar thing but more anonymously, taking pictures with a homemade camera. And Tichy resents the fame he has achieved, because he is just an old man who wants to be left the fuck alone by society. I can understand that all too well, and probably more so than I should at my age.
Advantage: Miroslav Tichy.
GARY SNYDER vs. HARRY CREWS
Two of my favorite writers that are living and breathing and have rarely let me down. Hard to pick either or because they both have great books that are bibles in my mind, and I've read through things they've both done that did not interest me even slightly. But I guess if this dude writing in the Huffington Post about me said I was the "literary and philoshopical heir to Harry Crews," as sad as it sounds to say, he must not be as great as Gary Snyder if some raggedy blog-having piece of shit like me is his heir apparent.
Advantage: Gary Snyder.

f l a t a

long, black fenders sculpted from
steel - born from the earth’s belly
and man’s perverted visions

J.J. Krupert Top 13 Countdown - July '10 #7: "Still Gonna Have Music" by Prolo

I was about to talk a bunch of negative shit, but this is not a negative song. Contrary to my cynical nature that comes across in the written word, I'm a pretty hopeful dude. I still have dreams and wishes and think I will be wildly successful before they chunk me in the ground and cover me up with some rocks. I very much miss making the type of back roads hip hop music me and Boogie Brown made for country ass fools with an open mind. Or open ass fools with a country mind. Actually, mostly we made music for ourselves. I need to clear all the shit out of the camper and hook up my I.E.D. looking recording set-up and start fucking around again. Life is far too short to pretend you can wait until next month.
STEAL "Still Gonna Have Music"
NEXT UP: More like reg-gay, am I right?

J.J. Krupert Top 13 Countdown - July '10 #8: "Diamond In The Back (screwed & chopped)" by Curtis Mayfield

I do not have the heart of a gangsta. I'm far too sensitive about too much shit. One New Year's Day, we were finishing a keg off, and somehow a guy fresh out of prison, my old mullet neighbor, and a guy who did tattoos out of a van who had a guy who owed him $200, plus like two other guys, all rolled up to this $200 in debt dude's apartment to bum rush him, and his girlfriend ran out the bedroom window to call the cops, and I had to run and grab her and drag her back inside, and she was just in a tank top and panties, and it was fucking weird. She didn't really fight, which was good, and I was all like, "It's gonna be okay." Then prison guy knocked the $200 dude out in the kitchen, laid out on linoleum. We went back and got high as fuck, and I was tweaked out by it. One of those situations that if it had gone a different direction, could be a far worse story today. Life altering.
Weird thing was I lived with this hippie chick at the time, and I came home and went to sleep in our bed and acted like nothing was up. "Sorry I'm late, me and my boys you don't like busted into some dude's house and beat him up and shit," is kind of a dealbreaker for chicks who have VISUALIZE WHIRLED PEAS bumper stickers on their Subarus.
I am very thankful those days are way in the rear view mirror for me. I am also thankful that my wife, who does drive a Subaru, does think VISUALIZE WHIRLED PEAS is a clever bumper sticker. That's kind of a dealbreaker for me. I am also glad she has a good amount of wild assness to yang up her hippie yin.
STEAL "Diamond In The Back (screwed & chopped)"
NEXT UP: Another goddamn Prolo song!

Weekly Recap

Football season has sprang upon us.
At Heavy.com, I have a weekly thing that will go down on Mondays. Here is the past week's column.
At Armchair Linebacker, I did a post-Redskins/Cowboys game metasciences analysis, as well as a defense of Clinton Portis the other day.
And of course, you could always buy yourself a copy of the book I'm in too.

L.E.o.R. - Fall ’10 - 40 to 20 - 3 of 4

Continuing with the process...
LEONARD KNIGHT vs. NAZARIO MORENO
I don't know, as awesome as La Familia seems, having followed Mexican drug cartels on google news for over a year now, I'm starting to be afraid of them. They seem like just by reading about them too much you might get your head chopped off. Those dudes actually blockade the streets of major Mexican cities whenever they want to. It's not like they are some underworld element anymore; they can flaunt their power in the open in Mexico. And as much as I embrace chaos, I don't necessarily want mass murders to be part of my chaos. (Automatic "fuck you, shut up" to whichever budding Tea Party mind out there is all like, "Well, when you have chaos you have murder." I had a teacher in 6th grade who when I asked her the difference between anarchy and communism, she said there was none. And I wasn't being a smart ass; I wanted to know. You kids are lucky you have the interwebz to teach you all the mind-corrupting things your ignorant ass teachers cannot.)
Leonard Knight is still painting the desert, and honestly, there's a handful of people in this first process that I'm like, "Oh shit, I need to get them to be part of the final five hopefully because they might die before next time." Knight is one of those dudes.
Advantage: Leonard Knight.
GHOSTFACE KILLAH vs. R.A. THE RUGGED MAN
R.A. is awesome, and a one of a kind American treasure, but Ghostface is Ghostface. The best rapper alive and the greatest rap show I ever saw, by a thousand miles. R.A. is a treasure, but Ghostface Killah is a blessing.
Advantage: Ghostface Killah.
GABRIEL DUENEZ vs. HENRY FULCHER
It is fall so all music should be slowed music. I cannot even listen to some things normal speed anymore. Bluegrass is way too fast, and probably will be more my speed come the cold when the woodstove is fired up and you have to wear wool socks when chilling out on the couch at night. But for now, leaves are just starting to change, and I haven't started carrying a coat with me during the stupid boring ass days.
Advantage: Gabriel Duenez.
JIMMY VALIANT vs. TERRY FUNK
If you assigned three wrestling nerds each to both of these guys and had them come up with a single DVD of great moments to watch to compare, I am sure for the average human being, Terry Funk would win out. But I am a southside Virginia knucklehead, born from longhaired rednecks and redneck hippies and lifelong underachievers and never-coud-be-ers because the world does not travel paths we know how to navigate, regardless of the innate talents and raw awesomeness we possess. Jimmy Valiant is one of us. We are street people, even if from back roads, and we understand each other without even having to know one another.
Advantage: Jimmy Valiant.
CAROL NESMITH vs. JACKIE TYSON
Nesmith raises chickens in the deep south for cockfighting in foreign countries. Tyson showed me how to raise chickens in central Virginia. I don't have three slabs of pork chops in my front porch chest freezer for no Carol Nesmith.
Advantage: Jackie Tyson.

p o w e r

manmade electric lines plus
mother nature’s wild vines, at
war atop a power pole

L.E.o.R. - Fall ’10 - 40 to 20 - 2 of 4

Let us resume this nonsense with very little explanation, so as to work my way closer to finishing up the fall class of Learned Elders of Rojonekku.
CHAZ BOJORQUEZ vs. ROBERT CRUMB
I looked at a bunch of gang graffiti online the other day, yet did not masturbate to muscle worship videos.
Advantage: Chaz Bojorquez.
OXANA MALAYA vs. PHYLLIS LIGHT
My wife is taking another class under Phyllis Light at some point this fall, and she's an awesome old herbal lady, but there is something that warms my heart about a 20-something chick who loves to tend animals on a mental hospital farm because she is considered mentally retarded or undeveloped or handicapped or whatever because she was raised by wild dogs. I am very much on a kick lately about how science and religion are both religions of course, and they differ on so much. Yet for some reason science has wholeheartedly taken the Dominion over the Earth thing and still attempts to point out constantly how superior humans are, when really how do you judge superior? Superior by our standards of what makes something better? Wouldn't that be biased? I love Oxana Malaya and wish they'd let her just hang with the dogs and stop trying to force her into some super role of reformed beast child.
Advantage: Oxana Malaya.
ATSUSHI ONITA vs. MIKE TYSON
Tyson is a wonderful story, especially if you work in all the strange superstitions and processes of boxing culture. But Onita blew himself up in fake fighting matches, got elected to Japanese Congress, and helped the children of Afghanistan somehow. My daughter just joined Facebook and her first status update was "I am sad about Afghanistan."
Advantage: Atsushi Onita.
TED KACZYNSKI vs. VINCENTE PIERRE
Pierre is a local hero of militant anti-governmentality gone to jail, while Kaczynski is a living legend of such affairs. There are only two people I'd like to initiate a prison/not-in-prison letter-writing relationship with - Kaczynski and Charles Manson. Of course, we all use laptops nowadays so I'm not sure I even know how to write with my hand. My signature has become swirly squigs with a couple of humps. I don't even get the number of humps right anymore.
Advantage: Ted Kaczynski.
DIEGO MARADONA vs. FIDEL CASTRO
Diego Maradona is a soccer player who went to coach soccer. Fidel Castro is a baseball player who went on to overthrow a corrupt government. Now he is old and hangs out watching dolphins. Che Guevara's daughter is a marine veterinarian. I read it on the internet last week, so it has to be true.
Advantage: Fidel Castro.

J.J. Krupert Top 13 Countdown - July '10 #9: "Synthetic World" by Swamp Dogg

Synergy is a too much thing sometimes. I had been stuck on holding pattern, with this the next song to write about, and had all these "crooked ass world spinning awkwardly" type things in my brain, but nothing forced itself out forever. But last week after I had hauled my two pigs into a rural butcherman to slaughter and slice into appropriate parts, I just kinda got stuck on sore and beaten by this world. Friday afternoon, I cut out of work early to go down to Buckingham County and get my animal parts. This butcherman dude was a real kook, so we talked shit around the bed of my truck for a while, including about how some of the ridiculously wealthy in our general area of the world were actually solid people, just rich as fuck. He said at one point, "He ain't nothin' but an ol' shoe like me or you." I had never been called an old shoe before.
So I had three full-sized coolers full of pig in the bed of my truck, two whole produce boxes full of it behind the seats in the cab, and two more produce boxes in the passenger seat, all of it wrapped up in butcherman paper, except the top box, which was the pork bellies for making bacon and the belly fat. I'd have to salt and sugar the bellies myself to baconify them, and the fat was gonna get cooked down to medicinal lard. (I like saying that because apparently there is such a thing as "medicinal lard" which my wife can sell for $15 a pint.) But riding back north 20 to Scottsville, with a giant box of meat seating directly and openly beside me, in fact from animals I had taken care of for the past 8 months, it was odd yet felt good. Then I plugged in the gaypod and hit play and "Synthetic World" came on. Perfect.
Then, yesterday as I waste my life with a job that does not feed me spiritually or creatively even slightly, I was poking around the interwebs and went to the Wigger Mortis blog, and C.T. there mentioned this very song and having discovered Swamp Dogg on my blog. Strange coincidences, as I'd been waiting to write about this stupid song for two weeks.
It also, however, reaffirmed something in my purranoid ass brain. There's a lot about the butcherman, as well as taking the pigs down there with the help of my neighbor, that I didn't feel like sharing with the interwebs, because this is a fake ass place (the interwebs) where people find salvation from their own social shortcomings. Except of course, this shortcoming philosophy becomes the mainstream and shit changes. You have Comic-con become part of regular news, and shit like that. For me though, I am still old school enough in that I think if it is something you could not stand around the back of a truck and proudly talk about to solid bros of your's, then you should never take pride in it. This means the 7 Real Dolls or collection of 4000 Japanese wrestling DVDs or having digital files of every New Orleans rap tape ever made, none of this is a prideful thing. And the internet is the opposite where those are wonderful things, where your freak flag can fly with as many off-kilter colors as possible, and that only makes it better.
I think in my brain I too often assume the internet is the homeland for that, which it is, but without the presence of real people anymore who do real shit like kill pigs and talk to weird dudes who call people "an ol' shoe" and just have general real life experiences. It feels like more of a synthetic world than ever to me. I actually can feel electromagnetic frequencies weakening the sharpness of brain's creativity lately. I've been experimenting with taking yarrow tincture internally to try and slow this effect, but there's no doubt it's a synthetic world. (Side note: the "tinfoil hat" thing was misinformation, because the aluminum foil actually increases the effect, as opposed to blocking.)
But there's still plenty of real shit, too. Real shit never goes away, although you can't easily find it on a smart phone app. You are better just wandering around aimlessly, because there's real shit around every corner if you wander far enough off the electronic path.
STEAL "Synthetic World"
NEXT UP: A warbled down ass whiteboy classic!

p g s p a

dumpster produce final feast -
fat hogs snorting through their last
bellies full of a good life

NFL WEEK 2: AFC North & West - 1st Quarter

I am doing a slightly compromised version of my weekly NFL rankings thing over at Heavy, which you should check out if you want (it will be in the weekly recap), but I decided to continue doing my original more cussed out/whacked out version as well. Which is what this will be, hopefully on Thursday mornings or Wednesday mornings, or who the fuck knows really. But it will be here. After the first week, your directionally connected pair of inter-conference divisions with the worst combined record were the AFC North and West, so they will start our tour this year. In fact, this year, we will cover the football in four quarters (obviously we are in the first quarter, as we will be the next three weeks as well), and into overtime (the playoffs), so understand, these rankings are faulty and misleading until at least the second quarter. But I have to pretend I'm doing something, don't I?

#1: BALTIMORE RAVENS (1-0, 1st overall) - Yes, at this point the Ravens are #1 in the league overall according to my scientifical system, mostly because they beat the Jets on the road and the Jets were incredibly overrated by Las Vegas oddsmakers coming into the season. The Ravens should be good though, and with an actual solid supporting cast of players on offense for the young Hero of all of Delaware (except the part near Philadelphia) Joe Flacco to toss the ball around to, they could be kicking up some Ws come the playoffs. THIS WEEK: on the road again, at the Cincinnati Bengals, in what usually is a brutal grudge match, and can only be made better by Ray Lewis wanting to paralyze Terrell Owens.

#2: PITTSBURGH STEELERS (1-0, 5th overall) - Oh man, that Steelers/Falcons game made me want to abuse cough syrup, it was so boring. Cough syrup and painkillers and mind-dulling drugs like that are great for making really slow and not exciting things seem way more exciting. Personally, and I probably should not be admitting this so openly, but I've become a big fan of mixing hydrocodone with watching PGA golf. THIS WEEK: on the road at Tennessee in what should be another slow and ugly affair.

#3: KANSAS CITY CHIEFS (1-0, 9th overall) - Imagine my surprise to wake up on Tuesday morning and find out the Chiefs beat the Chargers. Imagine how much I started laughing at Norv Turner. I think this will probably be the year that people realize Philip Rivers is a piece of shit. And somehow I just wrote an entire Chiefs blurb without actually really talking about them. THIS WEEK: they get to go to Cleveland, which - not letting the Chiefs week one win fool you - will be one of the least wanted games of the week. They still have to play it though, so that everybody can get to 16.

#4: CINCINNATI BENGALS (0-1, 21st overall) - Actually got to see a good bit of this game, and it was hilarious to have a Hail Mary at the half for the Bengals with both Ochocinco and T.O. already in the locker room. This season can only end ugly for the Bengals. At some point, Carson Palmer's going to crack and just join the Klan. Also, mad super duper props to the Bengals for adding that Rey Maualuga dude to Domate Peko, giving them two crazy longhaired tattooed Samoan dudes on defense. I wanna party with those guys. THIS WEEK: Baltimore, like I said.

#5: SAN DIEGO CHARGERS (0-1, 24th overall) - They lost to the Chiefs. This was supposed to be the year they absolutely dominated the AFC West. Of course, so was last year, and they had to count on a complete Denver Broncos collapse to achieve their division title, so whatever. Norv Turner teams are always underachievers. They could probably underachieve and still win the AFC West again. THIS WEEK: back home in San Diego, hosting the Jacksonville Jaguars. They should win easily, which probably means they will either barely win or outright lose.

#6: OAKLAND RAIDERS (0-1, 27th overall) - The Jason Campbell era gets off to an inglorious start. I watched that 30 on 30 documentary Ice Cube made about the Raiders in Los Angeles, and had a real hard time not just freeze framing it on Al Davis and staring at his shrivelled up old body sporting gaudy jewelry. That dude is one of a kind. I would not be surprised if the NFL helps pay to keep him alive just so he can ruin his franchise even more and they can laugh inside the big mahoganey doors of the NFL Overlord office and be like, "YEAH! WHO THE FUCK ELSE WANTS TO SUE US NOW!?!?" THIS WEEK: Oh, the Raiders are hosting the Rams this weekend as well. That will be the least wanted game of the week, yet someone will win, in early posturing for next year's number one draft pick.

#7: DENVER BRONCOS (0-1, 29th overall) - I feel bad for Kyle Orton. A bearded chronic alcoholic seems like the perfect fit for a Colorado sports team. And yet somehow, it seems nothing but personal frustration is in his future. It's too bad. THIS WEEK: Denver is at home against former AFC West rival the Seattle Seahawks. I hate the Seahawks, and hate Denver ever since they changed their uniforms to the newer ones. I am full of hate, for all types of things, and for very little reason usually. It is how I am.

#8: CLEVELAND BROWNS (0-1, 31st overall) - Basically my concern with the Browns rests entirely on Joshua Cribbs getting like 39 TDs on offense and special teams, being he is on both of my fantasy stupid fake football teams. Beyond that, I could give a fuck about the Browns. They could blow up in a dirty bomb and so long as they didn't cancel the Redskins game, I wouldn't care. It's easy to see why people were so mad at Lebron when you see what the Browns are bringing to the table. I bet they wish Jake Delhomme had taken his talents to Miami. THIS WEEK: solid home opener against the Chiefs. Unfortunately this is not 1987, so no one will care, except those crazy dudes who smuggle kegs into the game in the Dogg Pound section.

p a l a a

bumper still shines after years
of neglect; old metal can
polish - new plastic cannot

s p c l b

florida strip club champagne
room, where out of this square world
experiences await

h i e r o

mildew hieroglyphics mark
chalky fenders waiting to
rust back into the earth rock

Weekly Recap

All non-Rojonekku work this week has been football-related, meaning American football, not Champions League discussion. At Heavy.com, I wrapped up previewing the second half of the league in four installments:
Knockin' On Second's Door (Houston Texans, Philadelphia Eagles, San Francisco 49ers, and Cincinnati Bengals)
Playoff-Equipped (New York Giants, Atlanta Falcons, Pittsburgh Steelers, and New England Patriots)
Second-Tier Super-Teams (Minnesota Vikings, Green Bay Packers, Baltimore Ravens, and San Diego Chargers)
and Super Bowl Darlings (New York Jets, New Orleans Saints, Dallas Cowboys, and Indianapolis Colts)

Also, Armchair Linebacker has been cranking up as the NFL season begins, and I have two notable to me at least Redskins things there:
why Dan Snyder sucks, pt. 148
Metasciences preview of the impending season

My apologies if you don't like football. This is a phase I'm going through.

r a v e a

old camera - stupid dude -
ragged truck - together move
across government asphalt

L.E.o.R. - Fall ’10 - 40 to 20 - 1 of 4

This begins the second round of my retarded self-indulgent tournament of awesome living human beings, to create a Hall of 100 (eventually) Living Human Beings aka the Learned Elders of Rojonekku who would be the 100 dudes or ol' ladies I would pay all my money were I a bazillionaire, to teach the homeless teenagers I and my co-conspirators take in all the wonderful things they know in this world, and fill their heads with hopes and dreams and retardedness and wildernesses and double tough batshit crazy. So let us - meaning me - begin - meaning start.
AFRIKA BAMBAATAA vs. TOO SHORT
I could listen to Too Short all night long, driving westwardly under a new moon with a bloodstream full of THC, and an oil can of Foster's in my non-shifting hand, but when it comes to Learned Elders, Afrika Bambaataa is the epitome of that. A street thug turned new-fangled musical artist turned spaced out cult leader. He is Sun Ra for the hip hop generation, and it is a shame that rap music is so hung up on the latest shit so that there is no room for Bambaataa to stalk around and say crazy shit in more publicly accessible forums.
Advantage: Afrika Bambaataa.
BILLY GIBBONS vs. JIM "DANDY" MANGRUM
If I had to pick between these two ten days in a row, I'd probably change my mind every day. Billy Gibbons is a one of a kind type rock-n-roll blues legend. But there is an interview I had in a shitty magazine I used to write for with Jim "Dandy" Mangrum where, in his middle-aged days, he bragged that he's never had a real job and doesn't even know how to use a hammer, and also how much he loves women. Now, I would not pride myself in such things, but I am a man of the earth by birth. If I could trade it all in to waste my life with drugs, alcohol, and pussy, I probably would. Especially if you offered it to me at like 16.
Advantage: Jim "Dandy" Mangrum.
JOHN RIGGINS vs. TIGER WILLIAMS
Hockey is awesome, especially legendary enforcer types, but I am not Canadian or Swedish or whatever the fuck. I am American.
Advantage: John Riggins.
STEVE EARLE vs. SWAMP DOGG
Oh man, I bet Steve Earle could put together a really great two hour radio show about Swamp Dogg. And I bet Swamp Dogg, when presented with Steve Earle, would want to sing over top of Steve Earle's music. In alpha male hierarchical status, that means Swamp Dogg is the alpha. This is no slight on Steve Earle, just the way things are.
Advantage: Swamp Dogg.
BILL MURRAY vs. LARRY FLYNT
Bill Murray is a funny motherfucker, but a Kentucky hillbilly who took mass media pornographic magazining to a whole 'nother level of the game is a dude that I can be like, "Yeah, he has done a thing that impresses my rural stupid half-ignorant over-educated ass."
Advantage: Larry Flynt.

p n k c h

our yard is an organic
clusterfuck of various
junk items given new homes

m d p a w

homemade swine mud bath, trespassed
upon by fresh-dipped black dogs
looking to escape their shine

c a r t t

three blocks from the strip, concrete
pastures - undeveloped and
abandoned - wait for purpose

p i e r a

bird shit, blue skies, and simpsons
opening credit clouds glaze
my eyes with leisurely thoughts