Son of Solace....eh heh heh heh

Haha. So the deleted comment from yesterday relating to the post on the other blog about Philito read-

"Hello, I am said dickhole. You're pretty good at writing comedy. Too bad you can't write good music. Suburban dad rock is never going to sell. But the hilariously comical memoirs of a never has been never will be failed musician could make millions.

Think about it...while you're fucking all the way off you ginormous fucking vagina."

It's a shame he punked out and deleted it right after he posted it. Luckily I get all the comments via email so I have a record of all the pithy commentary sent my way. That's a pretty hot course of action though. Think about it...the magnificent level of pussery it takes to not only talk shit anonymously on the internet but to take it to the level where you have to delete your own anonymous shit talk right after you post it. Awesome!!!

This SonOfSolace guy has been anonymously pulling on my trouser leg since the band got started, sending me nasty emails and the like every few months. He used to get into it with my old bass player Jeff and did the ever badass threatening via email to kick his ass and stuff. That's tough to do from behind a keyboard though so Jeff never got the thrashing of his life as promised. What a letdown. Jeff's a total masochist so he was looking forward to it.

I could go on for days about the inherent comedy in a guy that calls himself Son of Solace. Just how many Friday nights spent playing MAGICK THE GATHERING and rubbing yourself out to Dolph Lundgren barbarian movies does it take to make that sound cool?

Back to the mattaer at hand(job), I love the "Suburban Dad Rock" part of the comment. Like I'm going to get my feelings all bent out of shape about the fact that I have kids and own a house.

"OH NO!!!! Now that my secret is out the roundheads that iPod DJ at Cafe' Saint Ex will never respect me no matter how tight my Iron Maiden t-shirt is!!! I can never show my face in the Red Room at the Black Cat again!!! "

In his world I can't possibly rock if I can procreate and take care of myself as a functional adult. If only I were cooler and still lived with my parents I suppose that's when I could really reach new levels of genius. Alas, I don't and therefore I'm doomed to the failure of totally enjoying my band, my family, my job, my house, my dog, my friends, my family and all the other terrible things that make up my life.

I mean look at the horrible shit I have to go through in the next two weeks. I have to celebrate my daughter's first birthday, go to DC 101 and get interviewed and play some songs, accept that terrible bonus from work, interview Greg Dulli, (one of my favorite musicians ever...singer for the Afghan Whigs and Twilight Singers), get my new CD from the press house and on top of it all play a Saturday night show at one of the best music clubs around town with my band that's comprised of three of my best friends and me.

HOW CAN I LIVE....HOW CAN I LIVE?!??!?!?!??!??!?!

You can come see me fail Saturday 10/22 at Iota for said release of my horrid suburban dad rock CD. I know you're probably thinking, "how does bad suburban dad rock get to headline at one of the best clubs in town on a Saturday night". I don't know, I guess there's lots of dads out there that get my gist. But anyway....

For some reason SonOfSolace (chuckle) thinks he's my mother and it's his duty to correct my behavior. Why he feels this I do not know, I'm guessing that he wants to make out with me or something. We did exchange semi-pleasant emails a few times way back but now it seems I'm back in his ginormous doghouse. I wonder if I can write acceptable music living there, I sure hope it's in Logan Circle or some other cool place like that.

So keep on lapping lapdog. I'm sure you will have plenty of opportunity to kiss my ass in person the next time we see each other, just like you always do.

That's the best part of the whole thing.