Castor Oil...sickeningly good

Tuesday, February 28, 2006

Predictability 101

So one of the waterheads from ThatGuy finally decided to post a comment in response to last week's analysis of their manifesto to assholery that I wrote up. From "Mike":

Sweet! It doesn't stop when my rant is forceably removed from CL! You people bring it to another forum and just keep racking up the hits on our site.The Name is Mike... ... You guys feel free to come to any show, and PLEASE introduce yourself, cause I owe all of you a drink for all this effortless publicity!!
ThatGuy Mike, at 9:51 PM

This is the usual step in the cycle of band Bros doing stupid shit and then getting their assholes puckered about it so they go into a spin mode that would make Scott McLellan proud.



Anyway I encourage all of you to go see ThatGuy. Seriously. Go out and watch them putter around and play karaoke band to a bunch of drunken 46 year old bar hags that have been at Sully's ever since they finished their shift behind the reception desk at Long and Foster's. Go out and listen to the calls of "JAGERBOMBS MOTHERFUCKERS!!!!" and pedantic little versions of Blink-182 and Limp Bizkit songs. You'll feel better about just about everything.

Mike you can consider me served my man. You keep being a fucking dope and I'll keep waving your dope flag for you.

Monday, February 27, 2006

stop and diddle the roses

Let me give some backdrop on the whole “I’m sick and tired of crybaby musicians that talk about how hard everything is. They’re simple whiney pussies that need to get kicked in the face by hob-nailed boot wearing kangaroos and thrown into a river of hot death”, attitude that I carry around with me.

That style rant is pretty much the premise of this month’s column in the On Tappito. I will hail the gods of synergistic print and online journalism, (“bundled content” to those of us who spend time interminable at newspaper conferences), by dovetailing that there column and this here blog with a story about why I feel the way I do on this subject. It’s not just band dudes that act this way that I hold in such disregard, they just catch my ire because I’m around them and they’re fun to hold a literary gun to. No, in the world at large these bellyaching waterheads are everywhere crying and moping around because their sandwich order is wrong and the mail is late and the Redskins lost and their fat wife is a fat whore and woe is me sob sob sob boo hoo hoo.



(A brief side note – I just heard from a friend of the Mrs.’ who was recently in Vegas and caught the last Prophets show that my guitarist Trey bears an uncanny resemblance to a male stripper in a traveling show called “THUNDER FROM DOWN UNDER!” that she saw perform whilst in Sin City. This news and the associated years of mirth I will have at his expense have completely made my day. Back to ranting.)

Here in America amongst the people I am usually amongst the vast majority do not have hard lives. When I see some nitwit at the airport talking on a cellphone about how terrible things are because his flight is ten minutes late I want to make him the secret ingredient on Iron Chef. Life for most of us blessed middle classers is a fucking breeze. Sure I complain but I don’t think my life is hard, my life isn’t hard at all. I have a great wife, two healthy kids, a roof and a car and a band and my hair…..not a lot to bitch about, (certainly not the hair). Jobs can suck but most people I know don’t have hard jobs. Moving furniture is a job I did for years, that shit is hard. Everything else has had modicums of difficulty but it’s all pretty much been a walk across a park made of buttermilk pancakes compared to humping a piano up five flights of stairs.

I have a good friend who had it hard. Ten years ago I was at the funeral for his wife which was a kick to the nuts just a few years after I was the best man at their wedding and drunkenly wished them a full life of babymaking ahead. In the intervening years between the joy and the heartbreak they had a baby boy who came too early and passed away after fighting as hard as he could to hold on. That was hard. A few years later my buddy’s wife was diagnosed with cancer right after she found out she was pregnant. They had to make a decision on how to treat the cancer and she held off on aggressive treatment so she wouldn’t risk the pregnancy. That’s a hard decision. The baby came healthy but the cancer came along full steam ahead and when my buddy was barely 26 years old he found himself a widower that had already lost a child and now had another one to raise alone. That shit is hard. Are you starting to see where I’m coming from?

Anyway he had little else to do but get his shit together, get a job that could provide for his wee family of two and try to put some sort of a life back together. He didn’t really have time to feel sorry for himself and just got down to the business of living instead of the business of being a self-absorbed sissy. I took a lot from that and on the anniversary of the shittiest few days of my life which involved laying his wife to rest I can smile at the memory of my friend Jill and how proud I’m sure she is of my buddy who is now remarried, has two kids, a house, two smelly dogs, a cool job and an independent film company that makes movies at a pretty steady clip.

It’s even more impressive if you knew us way back when. The two of us were definitely on the list of, “most likely to mouth-breathe and chew their knuckles as an occupation” when we barely graduated from high school. But y’know sometimes life treats you to an unwelcome lesson about having priorities other than your own convenience and how unfair it is that you have to share drumkits at P.J. Quackenberry’s on a Tuesday night and you learn to adjust and work and take some laughs along the way. That’s the thing that drives me crazy about people, it’s not the fact that they have it easy, certainly easier than most it’s that they refuse to take a second and appreciate it. Fucking jerks, if you get the chance to have a hoot don’t piss in the face of those that don’t by being a shit for your entire life. Idiots. I want to see them all destroyed and have their good fortune presented to some dude tilling a field that in his heart is a rock star waiting to happen. Someday when I’m appointed master of the universe this will be my first order of business.

See the movie guy at

See me at DC9 this Wednesday looking magnificent at the Six Points Music Festival shake and tickle happy hour.

I’ll see you later.

Friday, February 17, 2006

Sometimes it's as easy as shooting an old guy in the face

I'm really just jumping on a bandwagon here that's already full of bloggers from across the blogosphere but when said bandwagon offers a free ride to comedyville with a stocked bar and a full body massage chair to sit in well who am I to turn it down. It seems that there is a cover band called THAT GUY that has a really sad problem with people who don't like cover bands. To that end one of their members (members...y'know sometimes words have two meanings and are doubly delicious) decided to post a manifesto to Craigslist detailing the level of hurt and outrage that they feel in their much maligned hearts, (beating right there underneath the Green Day t-shirt).

I have copied said manifesto for your review with my comments in red. Enjoy.

Reply to:email deleted because I really am a nice guy
Date: 2006-02-15, 5:17PM EST

As most of you know, {always good to begin with a hearty bellyful of delusion. First of all who is the you and of that you how does Mike know that most of you knows or cares about a cover band called THATGUY that rocks out the haggard denizens of Chantilly?} of we've been hunting {who says Dick Cheney doesn't inspire!} for a bassist for a little while now, (. So while we've been combing the city papers, contacts, myspace, craigs list, and every other outlet possible we've come accross quite a bit of hostility from the "ORIGINAL ACTS." {open hostility...I'm sure. Did THATGUY draw a cartoon of an original musician with a bomb in his turban?}

Apparenly you insecure palm-stuffers {eh?} are under the impression that what we do is 'easy,'{learning songs is a repetitive muscle memory task much like shampooing. For those who find later rinse repeat a challenge this band is for you} and that you should apparently be afforded respect {in my case certainly true} because you're "original." {not to mention devilishly sexy} That somehow we took the path of least resistance, {I think the question here is if there is a path at all and if so where do it go?} and that we are not a REAL band {I have no question that That Guy is a band, a band of what remains to be seen. As it stands BAND OF BROS is the leading candidate.}. Hence the constant term "coverband" {dramatic pause....fart...continue reading}

Lets just explore this shall we? {Carry on Dr. Livingston!}

ThatGuy has been an official band for about 2 ½ years. {as certified by the American Association of Dudes with Jelly Hair and Blink 182 Fan 4 LYF!!! Membership cards} Have you checked your ego long enough to stay with one project for that length of time? {Let's see....ego....time...check....yup. Uh-OH!} Of course not, {but I just told you that.....} you {me?} wouldn't be on craigslist, {I'm just here to make fun of THAT GUY} myspace, {LOL BFFL I {3 PHI SIG SEND NOODEZ!!!!!!} or the city paper everyday {so this is the data the NSA is looking for. GO USA!} . You're too busy scolding coverbands {BAD BROS! Where's the newspaper?!? I told you about pissing on the carpet!} for being sellouts {Oh scolding you for that? Sorry. But to sell out you have to have actually sold something I think. Regardless....} to actually get that platinum album together. {coming soon to a retail location and QVC. We're just waiting for Hasslehoff to sign the endorsement papers} And desperately combing the internet {brushing is more accurate} for someone that thinks your indie slop {hey now!} could pass for music doesn't count. {Foreshadowing to the math section of the manifesto soon to come}

I just did a few calculations. {If you're bored this is where things start getting pretty weird} In the past 2 ½ years there have been THREE weeks that we haven't had a practice. {Life = Pathetic to the power of Grayskull} Most weeks we practice 4 hours, {OoooH!} but when we think it's necessary we'll easily top 8 hours in one week. {That's some Balboa vs. Drago style commitment right there motherfuckers} I'll be generous {thank you} and say that we've done that ¼ of the weeks, {where does the generosity come into play? So far I see nothing in it for me here} so we'll round out to about 6 hours a week for roughly 124 weeks. That comes to 744 hours. {Did you know the Beatles recorded "Meet the Beatles" in 9 hours. Just a thought.}

We'll add to this the fact {prove it!} that everyone in this band practices {has guitar in lap, picks nose, thinks about masturbating, picks nose some more, eats booger, puts down guitar, masturbates, hits SportsCenter, gives self lusty Bro hug, picks flakes off belly, goes to bed}, their instruments every day, {see above} but we'll subtract 2 days {kind of takes the effect off of "every day"} a week because, admittedly, {honesty it's such a loooonely woooorrrrd} there have been quite a few days {we're doing hard math here Holmes, give us the nombres!} when I don't have the time {E.D.} to pick up the guitar. So we'll give it about an hour a day, 5 days a week. {That is a commitment to well excavated nostrils and vacated Vons Deferens not seen by many mortals} That's a minimum figure. {Humility being a tenet of the THAT GUY credo} 124 weeks, 5 hours of individual practice. Bringing us to 620 hours of individual practice.

Now lets factor in shows. {YAY SCHOOL OF ROCK TIME!} Because we're organized {heh} I know exactly how many shows we've played. {This is the real math right here rock music nerds} To date we've played a total of 85 shows. {Roughly one show for every nine hours of practice now that we're on the math tip} That number is going up rapidly these days, {SWEET!} but when we first started out {like Fivel in an American Tail} we didn't play often {or like Rudy at Notre Dame} because, contrary to your assumptions about cover bands, {mine?} we had to prove ourselves, {like Daniel-San to Mr. Miagi} play to many empty bars,{all of a sudden the story is gathering HD level clarity} and endure a lot of confidence-crushing-defeats to get where we are now. {Playing at Sully's in Chantilly, Virginia. It's a long way to the top if you want to rock and roll my friends but the Everest of Rock has been reached. God bless the Sherpas.} Each show is roughly 5 hours of work. {Practice...we talking about practice man....PRACTICE??} Loading up the van, {heave ho} driving, {dude who bogarted the Puddle of Mudd CD?} setting up, {is it OK if we borrow this milk crate to jump off of during Home Sweet Home?} playing, {WE ONLY HAVE 17 MORE FER YA !!!!} breaking down, {awesome set Bro...totally're my Bro 4 lyf Bro....we rocked the fuck out tonight....dude you have to wait til we're in the van, I KNOW YOU LIKE THESE JEANS BUT YOU HAVE TO WAIT!!!} driving, {chilling out to Staind...} and unloading the van. {I'm beat Bro, give me a Bro hug. I'm Audi 5000.} 5 hours is actually a low figure {are you sure}because we actually {loves this word} play places that take hours to get to, {On a dark and lonely highway East of Omaha} but there have been shows that we didn't have to use all our own gear etc, {and so on and so on and so on} I'm rounding down. 85 shows at 5 hours brings us to 425 hours. {I'm trying to decipher how this makes the cover band legitimacy argument. Maybe Mike thinks that original bands all travel to and from shows by way of Tinkerbell's Insta-Fly Magic Fairy Dust and have voodoo instruments that are conjured out of mid-air when they come flitting into the bar so they don't put in the hard work of driving or picking up a nine pound guitar case. Mike, as much as I wish it was so I actually have to drive just like you do, (sans Puddle of Mudd and Jelly hair stains on the ceiling of the van). I'm sorry if this comes as a shock. Now please call home, your mom has something she wants to tell you about the Easter Bunny and where babies come from."

I'm not even going to factor in the marketing work we do, {writing manifestos, posting pictures of rednecks on website, masturbating}, time spent booking shows, {y'know something no original band has to deal with} balancing our books {ENRON ROX!!!} because yes, {YES!} we are a company, {and a Confederacy} with an accountant, {there's no sex and drugs for Irving!} we pay taxes {who could ask for anything more!} and have a back account under the name ThatGuy {I had a Squirrel's Club bank account when I was seven. It really legitimized me as force to be reckoned with} with a debit card reading ThatGuy, which we always find amusing). {LOLOLLERCOASTER!!!!!!!} We'll just compute based on this. {I cast Magic Missile}

Thus (forsooth!) over the course of 2 ½ years we've logged roughly 1,789 hours of work. {I love how all of this is work. The one calculation we never see on here is the breakdown on the hourly rate of pay for all of these work hours. You would think the human abacus could work that out but apparently it's beyond the pale} Since you're only sporting a highschool diploma {SPORTO!} I'll break that down. That's over 74 days straight. Keep in mind we have day jobs too, (WOW!) and not at Starbucks either. {We're part of the J-Team! It keeps the THATVAN rolling and the hair properly jellied as well as giving us the skills we need to succeed in life!"}

(ThatGuy Dan's addition:) {oh boy}

You write your own music. {I do} That's great. {Now we're getting somewhere} But, that also means that the only musical challenge that you ever get is trying to get that MONEY vocal line {did you know that Swingers came out over ten years ago and these Cro-Mags still drop that vernacular? SWEET BABIES!} (that you thought up sitting on the shitter reading kiddy porn) {Did Gary Glitter offend them, is that what this is all about?} to match with that MONEY {I'll have the roast duck with the mango salsa} guitar riff that you've had going on for a couple months now (when you're not arguing with your mom about taking out the trash). {Apparently Gary Glitter moved back home with Mumsy after that Thailand incident} Have you ever tried to learn someone else's guitar riff? {Why yes!} Furthermore, have you ever tried to master it? {Indubitably!} So well that the original writer wouldn't be able to tell if it was a recording of him or someone else? {In some alterno universe where a guy who wrote a song THATGUY is covering would put on headphones and listen to THATGUY's version and think "Is it live or is it Hemmorex. I have to know!" instead of "Why would I care about listening to some redneck Bro band imitate something I already know how to play note perfect becuase I came up with the fucking thing in the first place?"} Has anyone ever noticed at one of your lame shows that you botched a certain guitar part? {Well, that's not really a fair argument in my flawless case} OF COURSE NOT {I guess THATGUY DAN has seen me play} - they don't know what it's supposed to sound like! {Errr...they do when I play it Dunklestiltskin because I wrote it therefore I play it the way it's supposed to be played because it's mine} Try mastering the guitar lines of over 100 different guitarists, {I'd really rather not} and then having everyone in the audience critique you {if it's so bad out there why do you torture yourself so? It must be the love the art....oh wait a I got it. You're too cheap to pay for the beer!} on how close it sounded to the original recording! {I'm sure Johnny Cash and Ray Charles struggled with THATGUY angst when they weren't able to perfectly recreate the songs they covered. I can see old Johnny in his chair weeping because he just couldn't program the synth the way Trent Reznor did on the original of "Hurt".} Ever tried to figure out a song by ear? {Again, yes} Oh wait a second, {whistles....waits} you have! (I HAVE!!!} You're the 13 year old that posts the tabs online, aren't you!? { I {3 MYSPACE LOLLERCOASTER 2TYMZ!!!} Right, they're HORRIBLY wrong {Dang yo, sorry that on top of someone else writing the songs that you play some dude from Fargo incorrectly transcribed the bridge to some Simple Plan song and posted it on the interwebz so after you downloaded it for free you had to go back and figure some of it out for yourself. You BROS really do have it rough} Nor someone couldn't show you how to play it- every time. Anyone that has ever touched a guitar could tell you that. {Coco, (my dog), c'mere and touch this guitar. That's it. Good girl. Now I have a question for you, do you have any idea now that you have touched a guitar what these BROS are talking about? No? Me neither. Thanks, here's a Woofers for you. Good girl.}

But wait, {whistles....waits} I'm not done! {even for me this is getting tiresome}

Honestly I can't keep going through the whole thing sentence by sentence. I'll just pull out some juicy tidibits out of the remaining 278 paragraphs and provide some summaries from here on out.

Endless boring chest thumping about how hard it is to figure out someone else's guitar parts.

If you buckled because you couldn't figure out the two seperate guitars in a song then you're a true chump. {CLUBBER LANG!!!} If you think you've got the two seperate guitar riffs down, then lets talk about the solos. {Was that a bend, a hammer on, or a slide? Is that Delay, or echo? Wait, is it a flanger, or a phaser? Is it ACTUALLY recorded in the key of E-flat, or did they just tune their guitars down a half step and play it in E? Maybe it's a capo? Wait, what's this? You've never heard of that? You've never heard of alternate tunings? Whoa man, just think what powers you could yield if you knew what I was talking about!? Ahh, but we aren't even CLOSE to being finished yet.

Endless boring chest thumping about how great the singer of THATGUY is because he can sing like Stephen Tyler, the dude from the Red Hot Chili Peppers and Fred Durst all in one night. Pretty impressive.

Are you the singer? Are you the guy that's aspiring to be the front man that all the ladies will throw themselves at? Well, before you can dominate the world with your goose bump inducing pipes, why don't you try our job sometime? Our singer has to perfectly replicate the vocals tones, pitches and general sounds of Steven Tyler, James Hetfield, Steve Perry, Anthony Kiedis, Bert McCracken, Gerald Way, Brian Johnson, Liam Gallagher, Chris Martin, Patrick Stump, Brandon Flowers, Bono, Fred Drust, Eddie Vedder, Maynard James Keenan, Rivers Cuomo, Billy Joe Armstrong, Glen Danzig, Matt Bellamy, Tim Armstrong...and the list keeps going. I could literally list HUNDERDS - why? Because we can actually play HUNDREDS of songs. Can your band? Hell, can your band even play a full night at any local bar? That's about 3 hours worth of music in case you don't know because you've never done it. Taking into account the above singers, you'd have to be one versitle singer to handle all of that stuff and have people think it sounded good...not to mention do it 3 hours a night for up to three nights in a row!

I guess since this paragraph is about playing the bass THATGUY has added some Oprah stylee finger snapping noyoudin't to the voice of the manifesto. Funky. They also are threatening to kick their awesome fans in the balls if they happen to request one of the hundreds of songs THATGUY purports to know perfectly.

I won't even get into sampling (Kris can talk about that) or all of the equally as funky bass lines that we have to learn...not to mention being able to pull it out of our brains at the drop of a hat when one of you assbags tries to throw us a curve ball and request a song mid-set. BTW - if you do this I'm going to kick you in the balls.

By comparison, lets examine what you have been doing.

Now we get back into the magical world of orignal bands never practicing, booking, recording, playing shows or doing the all torturous driving. Apparently original bands spend a lot of time on IM and pull EP's out of their butts.

You've been either masturbating or IM'ing one of your equally unsuccessful original friends and discussing how awesome your 8th EP is going to be, and how you're totally going to release a full album soon. I'm sure you're going to surpass everyone's expectations and sell one of those piece of shit EPs to 5 people beyond your family.

And everyone in an original band works for minimum wage and bags THATGUY'S groceries after they get off shift with the J-Team. Also THATGUY seems to be rock badasses that really enjoy a good latte' from Starbucks.

You've been working for slighly more than minimum wage. You've probably bagged my groceries, checked me out at Target, or made my coffee. And you probably did a really shitty job because you're only working this job until you make it HUGE.

THATGUY seems to know a lot about the kind of shows original bands play. Somehow their experience (from above) of "when we first started out we didn't play often because, contrary to your assumptions about cover bands, we had to prove ourselves, play to many empty bars, and endure a lot of confidence-crushing-defeats to get where we are now." is different and somehow more awesome than that of the original band starting out playing to many empty bars and blah blah blah. They also go out of their way to denegrate a club called DC9. Apparently a club owned by a guy who is opening two more downtown venues in the very near future and is pretty well respected around the area can't hold a candle to the awesome venue that is Sully's.

Your show at DC9 was fucking awesome. You totally got 3 people to sign your email list. You're definitely going to get a Tuesday night next time you play 7 months from now (cause sunday night is the proving ground, and you TOTALLY proved yourself.).

I have no idea what the point is here but if anyone is defending the door policies of the Grog and Tankard they deserve to be dragged to their death behind the horse of a righteous and vengeful God.

The grog and tankard TOTALLY ripped you off. DAMNIT. They've never done that to anyone, and you're doing them a favor by bringing your crowd to their bar. $2 a head? We TOTALLY made enough to get a cheeseburger on the way home. We'll have to split it, but that's what the rockstar life is all about.

Original bands play in battle of the bands in high schools and their friends don't come out because they're busy with their flair at TGI Friday's. It's funny that in the last month the 9:30 Club has had nine local bands on Friday nights, I have no idea where they stack the desks in that place. Regardless any original show is like the total opposite of playing at Dewey with all the BROS who totally have your back and are going to like full on support THATGUY for like their whole career, (until they turn 26, get married and never leave the house again).

You totally should have won the battle of the bands at (random town) when you played there (that random weeknight), but all your friends were working at TGI Fridays so they couldn't drive 3 hours to watch you play in a High School gym. (By the way, they didn't have to work, you're just not worth the gas money).

I know who that is, it's THATGUY!!! Now I'm beginning to see the genius behind all of this.

You met a guy, that knows a guy, who's brother just started an Indie record label in the basement of his mom's house.

A dude who just posted this load of shit about how awesome he is for making money playing other people's songs and how everyone else is a suck fucking asshole says -

Truth of the matter is that you spend all your time trying to drag everyone else down. You are a parasite.


In the time we've spent working our ASSES off establishing respect for our abilities and our ethic you've dedicated all your time to hitting "refresh" on the CraigsList message board, your MySpace group page, or the City Paper.

Pre-emptive ass covering BROness in case someone he knows in an original band calls him out on this message. BRO YOU KNOW BRO, YOU GUYS ARE MY BROS AND YOU'RE NOT LIKE THOSE ASSHOLES AT ALL BRO BECAUSE I KNOW YOU BRO THEREFORE YOU CANNOT BE LUMPED IN WITH EVERY OTHER BAND I DON'T KNOW BRO BECAUSE LIKE THAT WOULD BE AGAINST THE BRO CODE. Even though THATGUY thinks all those bands suck anyways.

I can say one thing without hesitation if you're an original act in this area (with the exception of a handful of bands that we know personally).

My band is better than yours. {errr....doubtful} We work harder than you do. {But I thought all the dudes you hate were hard at work bagging your groceries. That's hard work too!} We've earned 10 times as much, {as much what?} and deserve even more. {What do you fucking deserve? You deserve as much as my clock fucking radio} If you were to face off with us {hahahahahahaha. PISTOLS AT DAWN!!!!} 100% {back to the math rock} of the people watching would agree. Your friends {but I thought my friends wouldn't be there what with the scheduling at TGI Friday's and all} would tell you that you beat us, {LIARS!} then sign our email distro list {check it out BRO, signed up AGAIN!} because they've been to our site and want to hang out with hundreds of gorgeous women.

Laughter break, back in ten.

Your music sucks {how dare you!} . No one likes it. {I am not a no one. I'm somebody!} Your friends come to your shows because you beg them to. {Not true, I ply them with Ruphinol} When they can't be there, they've fabricated their excuse, they're actually just sick of hearing your whiney-gypsy-indie-newage-emo-rock bullshit. {THATGUY plays Weezer and Dave Matthews band covers. This jut makes me laugh.}

Your girlfriend is ugly, and probably fat. {Apparently all original rockers are male or lesbian.}

In our search for a bassist we've gotten a lot of shit from these worthless "original" guys that have nothing better to do between their job at Target and masturbating than to give cover bands a hard time. {Unlike ourselves who have produced a manifesto about our awesomeness above anyone that has played anything remotely original ever save for the BROS that we're making sure we can still ass kiss and, oh yeah, those guys that write all the songs that we play.}

If you're an original band that works even close to as much as we do, and you really are putting in LEGITIMATE and MEASUREABLE amounts of work, {DO THE MATH!} and you actually have some talent, more power to you. {Although as repeatedly stated here you do not exist} I've got nothing but respect for people who put a lot of work in and deserve it. {As determined by my high standard of BROS that I know and lick anus upon} As for the rest of you clowns that are reading this {you should see our car, there must be 47 of us crammed in here!} and coming up with 100 reasons cover bands are sell-outs, {really only one big one comes to mind} that we have it easy, {I think it's been well established that you don't have it easy but fear not, there is an international sporting event held just for you where everyone is a winner} and that we don't deserve recognition as a real band, {I still want to know who was saying this before THATGUY brough it all upon themselves with this ridiculous post. Honestly why do BROS as badass as THATGUY care? I'm just involved in this dumbass bullshit for some laughs at their expense and could care less if they self-destruct or reach the ultimate goal of playing for the 5,000 attendee Dershowitz barmitzvah. The fact that they're some BROS playing Creed songs in Chantilly doesn't mean anything more to me than if they were a ventriloquist group rampaging about not getting respect from the guys who twirl plates on sticks. They should just pick themselves off shut up and stride forth to Brohalla and sit at the throne of Gonzo's Nose.}

One last statement:

You are going nowhere with your life. {Who, me?} In 15 years you will still be posting on the internet, {and I will be a 39 year old guy playing cover songs at the same bars that I play now} you'll still be unable to get anyone to like your music, {definitive word being YOUR} and you'll still be making a living {that's bad?} working a job that no one wants. {A semi-serious point; from what I can tell this whole thing is based on some bass players saying that they don't want to be part of THATGUY, (who proclaims this whole band thing is work and therefore a job they should have their collective wangs huffed by the world for having the momentous balls to carry out), because THAT GUY is a dumbass cover band that plays BROhead music to drunken rednecks and they (the bass players that is) would rather play originals than be stuck in THATJOB. So THATGUY guy is coming down on people for not taking THATJOB that they don't want while at the same time saying they're so clueless that they're destined to be stuck in a job they don't want for the rest of their lives instead which is what they just avoided by not taking the THATGUY job in the first place. It's just bad circular reasoning that never goes anywhere. Surprising from a band so good at math.} Meanwhile we will still be working our asses off, playing in front of hundreds of people, {The Reston Pool and Suds Hall is making plans for a major expansion} and living the life that you will NEVER HAVE A CHANCE TO LIVE. {The depths of my sadness at this can never be measured} You will never make it. {To Sully's} You will never be famous. {Unlike all the super famous cover bands out there like...ummm....}

Fuck off... get over it...

{ Wipes brow, shakes head, prays this whole thing was just a whacky marketing ploy, goes to eat food and get ready to play terrible original songs later on tonight, reminds self to call Tinkerbell to try and not be late."

Friday, February 10, 2006

A good rule of thumb

When doing anything don't try to make a point about something you're against by comparing it to anything to do with Nazis. To wit:

"Steele Apologizes for Holocaust Remarks
Compared Stem Cell Research to Nazi Medical Experiments

By Matthew Mosk, John Wagner and Ann E. Marimow
Washington Post Staff Writers
Friday, February 10, 2006; 11:30 AM

Maryland Lt. Gov. Michael S. Steele apologized this morning for telling a Baltimore Jewish group yesterday that he believes stem cell research could be comparable to Nazi medical testing on Jews during World War II.

"I'm just sorry for having said it, for it having come out the way it did," Steele (R) said on WBAL radio. "I made an inappropriate inference, and I apologize for that."

Really is it that hard to remember? When in doubt stay away from all things Nazi.

Idiots. Anyway I'm off to Alabama tomorrow so I should get some good idiotic ammo to wrtite about. Whoopdeedoo!
And totally out of context this might be the most insane thing I have ever written. You can figure out the whole thread by going
here and heading to the message board.

Too much tension? What???? I take that as an insult after all I have done to instill civility and free love around here. Well now that my honor has been besmirched a reckoning is due. What's a proper course of action, indian burns, head butts, paper football, maybe pistols at dawn? Naw I know, German sabre fighting!

Yeah, I'll give you the renommier schmiss (known as Bragging Scars to those of you not versed in 19th century Prussian honor dueling) of a lifetime buddy. You'll be all rocking out at a show and somebody'll say something like "damn what's up with those puffy purple scars on dat
doodez cheeks" and some A&R rep who is totally down with the scene and about to write me a big check will be all like "dat doode stepped up on the interwebs and insulted some message board's honor and den got all called out by that big tall handsome dude called Castor Oil who I'm
about to write a big check to and give him a sandbag full of cocaine as a signing bonus cuz his band is like the best band since Dion and the Freaking Belmonts and yeah but whatevah LOL anyway yeah they stepped out back of the interwebs and had a German sabre fight and
Castor totally rocked him up like Superman got his butt rocked by Disco Kryptonite in Jam on it and all dat.


Yeah baby dem dere puffy purplez is what are called renommier schmiss, scars left by the traditional German honor duel of sabre fighting" and the first person'll be all like "DIZZAM DATZ FROOTY DOOTZ" and then when they see me eating eggs at Bob and Edith's'll be all like "hey
Mr. Oil how you doing don't mind me just go back to your eggs and cocaine and please don't slice me up" and I'll be like "chill little homey...I left my sabres in the Escalade....but get out my face anyway before I stab you wif this bottle of Texas Pete picante sauce" and then they'll buy my album on iTunes and thank their lucky stars.

Well it could happen that way. Have a nice weekend.

Pharmacy Prophets next Friday 2/17 at Jammin Java
With the Echoes and Steve Wynn (from the Dream Syndicate)
8:00 - We start that early for real and for true

Check your weapons at the door, it's an all ages show

Thursday, February 02, 2006

King for a day

Just in case anyone has forgotten that we used to like totally love this crazy little madman........................

Linky - Hey Saddam, thanks for coming!!! Go ahead and lock up when you're done. You have a key!

Thanks to Jason Linkins at the Dceiver for writing something pithy for me to entertain you all with.