Monday, January 18, 2010

What's playing on my iPod????

The Fugs


New Amphetamine Shriek



I don't have a bedtime,
I don't need to cum,
For I have become an amphetamine bum.

If you don't like sleeping and don't want to screw,
Then you should take lots of amphetamine too!

Chorus:
Gabba gabba gabba gabba
Gabba gabba gabba gabba
Phet phet phet -amine
(x4)

I'm always excited, I just love to walk!
My jaws keep on moving and churning out talk.
I love to draw pictures in layers and layers,
and say the words backwards, when I say my prayers!

(Chorus)

These stimulant games can make life so sweet.
I can walk down streets without moving my feet.
My brain works so fleet, I can outwit the heat.
And I never feel beat, and I don't need to eat!

(Chorus)

There's nine bouncing people, in one little room.
The vectors are threading eternity's loom.
It's not bad for brain cells, the doctors proclaim.
It's almost as safe as that good old cocaine!

Tuesday, January 12, 2010

Top Ten Of '09 on 12-1

1) The Asshole Who Keeps Spamming My gmail!!!!!!!!

First of all I'd like to apologize to my five avid readers from across the U.S. and to James in India (P.S. - James, please don't get dysentery. I'd be heartbroken by your inability to eat in public places with me when you get home. But you could always buy those Cinco poopie pants pants!)
Okay, I have six avid readers if you include the 40 year old creepo loser from Chicago who keeps spamming my gmail after I commented on a blog he decided to write that senselessly crucified
'Dear Astronaut', an amazing local Milwaukee band who they, the 'Inter-Special Anal Dude Ranch ManBLA Revival Band' (sic), had opened or headlined for that night. My response expressed how let down I felt after seeing his 'electro-core / speed-core band' 'play' a 'show' in Milwaukee back in November. I HAVE SEEN YOUR BAND IN CITIES ACROSS THIS COUNTRY, AND USUALLY THESE BANDS ARE UNDERAGE DUO'S THAT USE THE SAME 'SPECIAL GUEST GUITARIST' HIGH SCHOOL FRIEND AT EVERY SHOW!
So, I decided then that if I were to ever pay to see these FIBS play again live, they would first have to be covered in Pig's blood ( previously laced with PCP, Ketamine, and Meth) and Chimpanzee cum and pheromones, before engaging in a hand-to-hand battle to the death.

It would all take place in a Greek style theater, dug 15 - 25 feet into the ground, surrounded by a moderately sized arena with coliseum style seating. A vast dome of chain-link fence would cover this little arena, and just to keep it interesting, the pit will be filled with live Jaguar.With every passing minute, a Male Chimp would be introduced into the pit. After 6 minutes, logs would be thrown in and the pit would be flooded for the crocodiles released into the 'pool.' Fecal face-paint and the used thongs of VD riddled transvestite prostitutes would be their mandatory attire, and old Italian fascist (black-shirt) folk songs would play over loudspeakers with audio overdubs of the birth of a calf, a feverish evangelical sermon about how those who refuse to accept jesus will burn in hell, and the sound of a box full of 100 kittens meowing sweetly.
And after all is said and done, a pack of desert coyotes will be led in to finish the remains of everything left over

(sic)
- I still cannot remember the name of this shit band for the life of me....

2)L.A. Confidential

By far my favorite smoke right now.

3)Vodka-Tonics (w/ a twist of lime)

These low cal, low sugar cocktails are great for getting wasted on a work night,
because they just cannot weigh you down and are so delicious, you'll feel ashamed
of not wearing a white linen suit and derby hat while you drink this highball on your front porch.

4)Girls - 'Album' (must be listened to on headphones at least once)

P O P - P E R F E C T I O N !
An album like this comes out every 10-15 years, and ends up defining a generation.
Well kiddies, this is it!

5) Antichrist

Willem Dafoe, from behind, in coitus with a lady/ladytree

6)Lady Gaga

Whether you love her or hate her is completely and utterly irrelevant because you either want to fuck her, or be her. So, 'Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?' Well, after growing up within generation cyborg, our Madonna has finally come - now streaming in fabulous 1030P HD directly to your iPhone, bouncing on and off of satellites 24/7 around the globe and Lady Gaga's
LIVE MOVING IMAGE is suddenly projected onto billions of billboards, high-rises, busses, homeless people, bootlegged (sorry, seems a little outdated) I meant to say, pirated and sold on street corners from NY to Bangkok and from the favelas of Rio to the ships of Somalian pirates starving somewhere on the Indian Ocean; saturating radio waves to their melting point with strong beats, catchy hooks, and clever lyrics. Lady Gaga, you're my hero.

7)Now, even your grandmother is on facebook, and you relatives stalk you on here.

8)Learning that the reason Russ Meyer ever even thought of 'Faster Pussycat, Kill, Kill' was because, in his own words, “I always had a tremendous interest in big tits.”

9)I FINALLY saw the Tour de Force that is Pier Paolo Pasolini's final and most ambitious film, Salò, or the 120 Days of Sodom. I would not recommend this film to the faint or weak of heart. In a nutshell, Salò explores the cold, sadistic, nihilistic themes and imagery of the Marquis de Sade's novel The 120 Days of Sodom, sets the story in the last crumbling days of Benito Mussolini's occupied Fascist Italy, known as the Republic of Salò, and does this in four movements or as they are referred to, 'circles' based similarly on the rhythm of the cantos in Dante's Inferno. It is also based on some of the horros seen by young Passolini while growing up in the Republic of Salò. Four Fascist Libertines decide "Hey, let's marry each-others daughters and then rape and torture a bunch of kids we kidnap because we can!" They then abduct a few boys to serve as soldiers to guard 18 abducted co-ed teens, so as to torture and abuse them as they see fit.
Kidnapping, torture, homosexual rape, the eating of shit, eye-gouging, scalping, old vulgar prostitutes, and much, much more, make this movie unwatchable for most, and others will refuse to even view it ever again. This film deals with the darkest issues found deep within man's heart and soul, one's not talked about, or shown graphically as a means of social commentary, and most people will NEVER be ready to see this film, despite how precise and personal it is pulled off. A true Masterpiece, perhaps explaining in part why Pasolini was repeatedly run over by a car and murdered by a 17 year old boy who years later claimed he was forced to do it by "southerners," probably men of criminal or political backgrounds who had threatened to murder his family if he did not cooperate.


10) .......and the winner is...

If you are reading this it means you did NOT die in 2009, so - congrats!

Later nerds.

Monday, October 12, 2009

poem

a bitch and a pack full of lies 10.12.2009


love is a two headed beast
of carnal pleasure and sadism
only in love will you seriously consider
killing someone solely out of
paranoid delusions of jealousy
only in love will you allow
the people closest to you
to abuse your most faithful affections
expecting that, eye for an eye,
one good turn deserves another
and that your sacrifice will pay off
sooner or later....right?
but the reality is that you are
simply another host
to a parasite that simply feeds and feeds
off of every grain of positive energy you give it
and in return
-that shining light at the end of the tunnel-
a half-dead joyless fuck where
she just lies there like a cadaver
completely disinterested
reading elle magazine
and smoking a camel
then one day you tell her that
something has to change
that you cant take
being used like that anymore
she apologizes
makes plans with you for 3 days
and deliberately blows them all off
every day a new excuse
just like a cunt
and then calls you up five hours before
you have to get up for work
and tells you all this
and that SHE doesnt want to hurt YOU
that she doesnt think you should see each other
for awhile, for YOUR sake!
yes sir, love is a two faced doberman bitch

Tuesday, September 29, 2009

a poem

purple hearts 9.28.2009


i met a stray dog today,
roaming the streets
looking for someone
to love her
She reminded me of you,
lonely playful and sweet
We played fetch with a stick
and i fed her what was left
of my tunafish sandwich
Then we sat down at a bus stop
and i cooed to her,
petting her beautiful bronze coat
And then she turned back
and looked at me
sullenly and unblinking
and bit my right hand
'YOU BITCH!'
I screamed
and tried to kick her
but I was too late
she had already run off
to find another stupid,
sensitive fuck
across the street
in the park.
She reminded me
of you.

Sunday, September 27, 2009

Aaron Rogers smells like Joe Namath ( a combination of cologne, prostitutes, cocaine, cigars and whiskey - a recipe for success)

Well everybody, its Sunday again. Kickoff is in five minutes and I've already had my first bloody mary and short beer of the day. Today the (1-1) Green Bay Packers face off with the (0-2) St.Louis Rams. Right out of the gate I think it needs to be said that Aaron Rogers is a hard nosed, rough and tumble motherfucker and that Marc Bulger doesn't have shit on him. The Rams are going to play a good running game, and most likely give the ball to Steven Jackson as much as they can, but he might run into trouble when he meets the Packers' defensive backs. The Packers will rely on a passing game that uses short runs to gain better passing position for Rogers to get loose all over the Edward Jones Dome. I don't think this game will be anything particularly interesting, and will be paying more attention the Browns/Ravens, Jets/Titans, and Niners/Vikings games.
So, here's my picks for the week-

Ravens over Browns by at least 7 points
Redskins over Lions by 3
Jags over Texans by 7
Pats over Falcons by 10
Packers beat Rams by 6
Giants beat Buccaneers by 14
Jets beat Titans by at least 10, possibly by 17
Eagles over Chiefs by 7

and for the best early game, Vikings/49ers, I believe there is a good chance that the 'Niners can beat Favre at the Metrodome. I grew up watching him lose there two out of every three times he played there. So I'm making this call against my boy, but only because the 49ers are a great young team, and fun as hell to watch. So,
49ers over Vikings by 7


As for the late games
Saints over bills by 6
Bears over Seahawks by 7
Steelers over Bengals by 7
Broncos beat Raiders by 7
and sadly I have to pick the Dolphins over the Chargers by 3 due to injuries.

Lastly, the Cardinals will butt fuck the Colts, winning by 14 points in the late-late game.

Don't put any money on my picks though. I'm a romantic, and cocaine and alchohol contribute to delusions of grandeur.

Saturday, September 26, 2009

you must give blood for your beard!


To: members of mr.mustacio

From:Jake Bebop Barg September 26 at 2:52pm


I think this is now going to double as an anti-advertising guerrilla group of bearded freaks stretching from coast to coast in the u.s. and all the way over to the west bank. what kind of nefarious dastardly deeds can we muster up you ask? start by drawing mustaches on any public advertisement you see, with the initials 'M.M.' written somewhere on it. in the meantime i'll be working on a couple of stencils to send to all of you, so get busy and hit up any corporate signage or logos with faces, bus stop/subway/el ads or stupid billboards today. post pictures to faceplace or e-mail them to me and i'll put them up.
also, a prize to the first person who successfully removes a mustache on a captain morgan billboard and uploads a pic.

sometimes you just eat the acid, and sometimes you sit down in piss


Facebook message sent yesterday 9/25/09
amidst a wave of chemically aided inspiration and bliss


dear emma,
i love your poem.
so does my cat,
it really just confused my dog tho.
(he's illiterate)
as of late, i have been possessed
by buke's ghost between
when i wake up and when i go to sleep.
his spirit even got me a
shitty little full-time job
at a bakery.
also, i drink a lot,
and this led to me destroying
like 5 keys on my keyboard,
because i want typer sounds,
not plaz-tec crunchies,
so i beat the keyboard to death...
with my fingers!
i miss my smith-corona,
but i cant find an ink ribbon for it.
i may have to frame your poem tho.
and then send you one,
typed over a picture
of my massive vag.
and sent pony express-style,
using carrier pigeons.
posing as geese!
tales of ordinary madness
is my favorite. i like short stories
i can read on my lunch break.
my fav poem by myself,
charles bukowski,is-
my old man.
he was a prick.
so i've been listening to this great new band
-the mama's and the papa's.
you've heard of them?
i might shave my legs
just for the thrill of it.
did i tell you i ate dexedrine earlier?
that and rum. i'm having a party.
with your facebook.
are you jealous?
i already need to leave milwaukee again.
i feel like it might suck me into its
dark heart. i am contemplating
a temporary vesectomy,
to prevent babies from happening here.
sex is like a bear trap covered in honey,
and i am quite the pooh bear,
but leary of milwaukee's trix.
lets be paper-mail pen-pals.
i'll message you my address.
i'm wondering if i have conquered
your entire walls face?
and you don't get preggers either!
we need to write much, much more
before we start making babies
with random strangers and vagrants.
thats phase 4 of the plan,
and sadly we are not using that plan
because i ate it and forgot the rest.
yuck. we might have to eat some poop
to make me remember?
sifting through the feces just sounds
fucking gross! (and much less satisfying)
happy friday night! i miss you!





P.S.- this is actually quite serious....
i was at a dan deacon concert
this summer and ate some hippie paper
so i went to the bathroom to shit,
only to sit on a toilet covered in piss,
possibly voms. the paper made my
butt feel funny, so i just kept pooping.
then, i realized i had to wash my ass,
so i held my pants at my knees, and
exited the stall into a packed bathroom.
i'm damn sure everone in there looked
at me, and my penis, but they didn't
say anything. not a word. not even when i turned
on the sink and sat down in it. then,
i saw these two guys from this milwaukee
band, brief candles, that played at the cave and
partied at yellow door and crack. so i was like,
hey i remember you! you played at the cave!
we smoked in my bedroom, in MN!
you guys having a good time? i'm okay.
oh, this? don't worry. i sat in piss! it's all good dudes.
i have to wash my ass before i put my pants
back on, its cool man. some 16 year old kids
fed me a tiny picture of felix the cat!
oh no man, i dont wear underwear, they're like
chains for your bait and tackle. stinky white chains.
i free-ball. its like wearing boxers, but not.
god im drunk! when is your next show?
(then, in front of them and 30 other dudes,
i got down off the sink and rubbed my ass
and genitals vigorously with paper towel,
which i defiantly (in my own mind, because at the time
washing my ass in a public restroom wasn't defiant or risky enough)
threw on the floor with a zealous grin. and somehow
still managed to get my shorts soaking wet)
well, i wanna go dance more, it was nice talking,
but i'm fucking tripping balls. i'll see you smelly beatniks laterz!
i'm going to get my groove on with furry bunny hands!

looking back, i have no regrets. but very well may have
been beaten, or arrested. so the moral of the story is,
dont get caught, and you can do anything at a concert
if children aren't present and you've taken LSD.

P.S.S.- i really hate underwear.
P.S.S.S.- this will no longer post to your wall

Saturday, March 14, 2009

The Cattle Call

To be locked in the arms of love. Is that not our entire search for meaning in this life? To be validated by the unconditional love of another, and have someone to shower your love upon,
but also to have the freedom to remain ourselves and stay true to who we are? But the real question is, dear brothers, is this really love, or is it just truth. Real truth. The thing we so desperately seek because it is wholly conceivable, but never attainable by man. Is it that
illusory thing we fight for our entire lives to find, only to perpetually be running one step
behind, and in the wrong fucking race? That obscure object of desire, never to be touched by human hands, and the absurdity of the whole damned circus that goes along with it.

Fate

"Where are you going?" the voice demanded, softly but with resonance.
"You know if you go that way..."
Vince sighed impatiently, he knew where this was headed.
"... if you go that way, you can't get back. Things will never be the same."
It was silent.
He stood for awhile, staring at his reflection in the window. Glancing carefully
from side to side, meticulously inspecting every hair, pore and wrinkle. Slowly
he raised his right hand to his face and rubbed his deep, sunken eyes with his
thumb and forefinger, rolling them back into his skull, letting his fingers gently
knead their way out and over the sharp contour of his cheekbones and back down
his broad chiseled jawline to his square bearded chin.
"Where are you going?" he said aloud to himself.
He stared a moment longer, then stood up and walked away. There was no one
around to answer.