Tuesday, August 26, 2008
Rollerwade
So majestic. I could ride a white tiger through a harem of nubile young virgins as my three foot cock drags through heaps of ducats and jewels, and it would still come only halfway to how cool this shit is.
- Vlad
Wednesday, August 20, 2008
Saturday, August 9, 2008
Top Five Songs You All Know, But Not Really
Let me explain...there are two types of listeners when it comes to music: the explorer and the radio cruiser. The difference between these two is that the explorer will go into a music store on a whim and start snatching CDs like Rumpelstiltskin in a maternity wing, whereas the radio cruiser jots down the name of every song on the most popular station and religiously follows the roster because he or she is unaware other shit is good too, or probably better. You see, in order to hit a sweet teat on the spectrum of popularity, music producers hire artists that are so mediocre, it's pretty much an art form. Because of our modern lifestyle's need for social acceptance, kids don't want to be too unique and suffer being shunned, but also don't want to listen to some jackass having a prolapse in their ear. That's why we get this:
Ali Blowhard, er, Lohan is just what the world needs - more of the same shit in a different shitty package because anything better makes us weird, and anything shittier makes us, well, also weird. And stinky. So it's no wonder that the vastly greater ratio of the radio cruisers will spend years, maybe entire lifetimes, without knowing what exactly they're listening to, because often what it turns out to be is a great song crushed and compressed to retard-size, easy-to-swallow, yum-yum Flintstones tablets. Let's get it on.
NUMBER 5 - Vanilla Ice with Ice Ice Baby
I wanna say this in advance: it's not the artists that piss me off, hell, it's not even you. It's the lack of appreciation that goes for the original masterminds even though the only thing that made this song popular...was the fucking beat. And whose is it? Not Vanilla's, baby. It's those two strapping young lads, Bowie and Mercury, one of which basically lost an eye fucking some guy up, and the other who lost a life just plain fucking. The song is Under Pressure.
Ali Blowhard, er, Lohan is just what the world needs - more of the same shit in a different shitty package because anything better makes us weird, and anything shittier makes us, well, also weird. And stinky. So it's no wonder that the vastly greater ratio of the radio cruisers will spend years, maybe entire lifetimes, without knowing what exactly they're listening to, because often what it turns out to be is a great song crushed and compressed to retard-size, easy-to-swallow, yum-yum Flintstones tablets. Let's get it on.
NUMBER 5 - Vanilla Ice with Ice Ice Baby
I wanna say this in advance: it's not the artists that piss me off, hell, it's not even you. It's the lack of appreciation that goes for the original masterminds even though the only thing that made this song popular...was the fucking beat. And whose is it? Not Vanilla's, baby. It's those two strapping young lads, Bowie and Mercury, one of which basically lost an eye fucking some guy up, and the other who lost a life just plain fucking. The song is Under Pressure.
NUMBER 4 - Kid Rock with American Badass
It baffles me how much money this guy made writing lyrics. I mean, poetry is cool, but slamming every single word you write to a beat that already exists, not once, but several times (stay tuned) is just fucking brilliant. This guy probably owns a five story mobile home because of other bands. Way to go Kid Rock. At least he has good fucking taste though. You can roll with Rock or suck his dick...while he plays Metallica.
It baffles me how much money this guy made writing lyrics. I mean, poetry is cool, but slamming every single word you write to a beat that already exists, not once, but several times (stay tuned) is just fucking brilliant. This guy probably owns a five story mobile home because of other bands. Way to go Kid Rock. At least he has good fucking taste though. You can roll with Rock or suck his dick...while he plays Metallica.
NUMBER 3 - Green Day with Boulevard of Broken Dreams
You know this one. To be honest, I've seen worse, but then again, most others were out in the open. This one doesn't try to mooch so much as it tries to leech, and the victim is Seals & Crofts with Summer Breeze. The reason I bring this vague 50-50 chance, rip-or-no rip comparison to number three is because while other artists mentioned thus far probably asked for permission to use the beats (no way either Vanilla or Kid could've gotten away with it), Green Day seems like it's trying to drown it out. But I'm willing to give them the benefit of the doubt. I mean, it's tight coming up with shit when everyone already beat you to the punch. Besides, they say great minds think alike, even though, personally, and without any offense, I could list 5 objects in my room right now that would sound better tumbling down a heap of shit than Green Day does playing. But still, Green Day is fun until you start listening to the lyrics, much like Limp Bizkit, which I still listen to. It's my guilty pleasure, even though Fred Durst is a dong.
(Pay attention to the guitar. Green Day increased the tempo, but it's still quite similiar. Better yet, check out the JR Brow link at the very bottom of the post.)
You know this one. To be honest, I've seen worse, but then again, most others were out in the open. This one doesn't try to mooch so much as it tries to leech, and the victim is Seals & Crofts with Summer Breeze. The reason I bring this vague 50-50 chance, rip-or-no rip comparison to number three is because while other artists mentioned thus far probably asked for permission to use the beats (no way either Vanilla or Kid could've gotten away with it), Green Day seems like it's trying to drown it out. But I'm willing to give them the benefit of the doubt. I mean, it's tight coming up with shit when everyone already beat you to the punch. Besides, they say great minds think alike, even though, personally, and without any offense, I could list 5 objects in my room right now that would sound better tumbling down a heap of shit than Green Day does playing. But still, Green Day is fun until you start listening to the lyrics, much like Limp Bizkit, which I still listen to. It's my guilty pleasure, even though Fred Durst is a dong.
(Pay attention to the guitar. Green Day increased the tempo, but it's still quite similiar. Better yet, check out the JR Brow link at the very bottom of the post.)
NUMBER 2 - The Offspring with Why Don't You Get A Job
Fuck you, eat shit, die in a fire, I know you fuckers listened to this shit like mad cows, don't even lie. Each and every one of you had this burned on your CD along with Uncle Fucker and that song about Frosty being a sexual predator, you lying sacks of shitty lies. And you know what? It was probably ripped off from that one band you thought would instantly give you erectile dysfunction and ruin your "cred" to boot because they're old and don't know shit. Eat it, bitches.
(I had to use this censored version because the other one disabled embedding.)
Fuck you, eat shit, die in a fire, I know you fuckers listened to this shit like mad cows, don't even lie. Each and every one of you had this burned on your CD along with Uncle Fucker and that song about Frosty being a sexual predator, you lying sacks of shitty lies. And you know what? It was probably ripped off from that one band you thought would instantly give you erectile dysfunction and ruin your "cred" to boot because they're old and don't know shit. Eat it, bitches.
(I had to use this censored version because the other one disabled embedding.)
NUMBER 1 - Kid Rock with Swee - wait, wait, wait. Kid Rock, again? Oh, that's right. The stay tuned part...Alright, well, we all know Kid Rock does this sampling thing more times in a day than I shit in a year, so why mention him again? That's simple: to piss you off. I'm sorry, there's honestly no point beyond that, I just love making you think that the music you've been listening to for the past decade is garbage. I've covered American Badass, the shit those rednecks were blaring in auto class with the garage door open as if they were doing me a favour, and I've covered Ice Ice Baby, something you still no doubt have somewhere in your music folder out of sheer nostalgia. I've covered Green Day which has haunted me until quite recently, and Offspring which made you think you were a rebel. And now, to top it off, I hit the closest to home with All motherfucking Summer Long, another redneck anthem the radio milks for all it's worth until you're simply GARGLING Kid Rock's spunk as he counts his wads of cash while Warren Zevon rolls in his grave. Even his title is a fucking rip-off. I've heard it being called All Summer Long, but radio hosts occasionally blurt out Sweet Werewolves of London, as in Werewolves of London mixed with Sweet Home Alabama - only Sweet Home Alabama sucks balls, so I don't really give a shit about it, but if you really want me to tear you an extra asshole, then fine. This song ripped off not one, but two other songs. Now that's fancy.
I serve asses on silver platters. Also, I should probably mention that I didn't discover the Green Day one (got it from JR Brow) and that someone else mentioned the Offspring song being a rip-off (I forgot who). I do this so I don't get caught in a terrible ironic trap of hypocrisy. See, when you swallow your pride, you can save some face. Learn from me, music industry. Learn.
- Vlad
- Vlad
Thursday, August 7, 2008
A little intellectual dick in the ass.
I mean kick. Kick in the ass. Anyways, this is Kris, also known as Wet Floor, because caution: when I walk in, all the girls get wet and hit the floor. That's right. And because I'm so fucking magnificent, I will spin this motherfucking blog 180 degrees with a single thrust of my brawny, sun-kissed beef. Mmm, yeah! This blog is not about music anymore, or about alcohol (which it was never about), and certainly not about hairy Serbians or strippers, because fuck that shit. No, it's now about books. Books I read that is. Because everything else is cocks. Big, thick, lubricated cocks.
So, without further ado, I shall now announce what book I'm reading and by whom it was written, with an air of such confidence, you'll think you actually give a shit. Oh, and I'll do it in third person, motherfucker. Haha, bam, bitch! Excuse me while I take off my glasses and gently wipe the lenses with my important clothes, cuz I got all steamy kicking you in the nuts, you worthless philistine.
Kris Gaier is reading "The Tugger" by Alex Hoal; an autobiographical tale of a young, black sailor in the midst of a whole lot of white seamen, as they travel on a military-issue tugboat, The Wet Dutchman, whose destination is an eye-opening revelation that black or white, we're all pink inside. Told through hard-hitting and gripping first-person narrative, this tear-jerker will make you rethink your life and the way you see those around you, and maybe even teach a lost soul or two, just like Hoal taught all 69 of his co-sailors, to not frown just because it's brown. Kris Gaier was eager to join sailor A. Hoal on his rough and rugged journey through pain, discomfort, and ultimately acceptance and ease, as his crewmates finally learned to sail smooth. Kris loved every inch of the book thus far. In fact, he just got done working on the first half of it, and is just itching to get the rest of it inside him...
...balls deep.
- Kris
So, without further ado, I shall now announce what book I'm reading and by whom it was written, with an air of such confidence, you'll think you actually give a shit. Oh, and I'll do it in third person, motherfucker. Haha, bam, bitch! Excuse me while I take off my glasses and gently wipe the lenses with my important clothes, cuz I got all steamy kicking you in the nuts, you worthless philistine.
Kris Gaier is reading "The Tugger" by Alex Hoal; an autobiographical tale of a young, black sailor in the midst of a whole lot of white seamen, as they travel on a military-issue tugboat, The Wet Dutchman, whose destination is an eye-opening revelation that black or white, we're all pink inside. Told through hard-hitting and gripping first-person narrative, this tear-jerker will make you rethink your life and the way you see those around you, and maybe even teach a lost soul or two, just like Hoal taught all 69 of his co-sailors, to not frown just because it's brown. Kris Gaier was eager to join sailor A. Hoal on his rough and rugged journey through pain, discomfort, and ultimately acceptance and ease, as his crewmates finally learned to sail smooth. Kris loved every inch of the book thus far. In fact, he just got done working on the first half of it, and is just itching to get the rest of it inside him...
...balls deep.- Kris
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)