tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-90533985930584773452024-03-05T06:43:15.428-08:00Tales of PerversionLord Frankhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15782661284097098722noreply@blogger.comBlogger52125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9053398593058477345.post-42569868699223006102013-10-28T14:11:00.000-07:002013-10-31T05:53:04.960-07:00Ladies and Germs, its The Tales Of Perversion Zine Farewell Roast!!!<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;">
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<b><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">Ladies and germs, your host this enchanted evening, Mr. Rick Smith...</span></b><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b><i>“Thank you, thank you… you’re too kind.
Welcome, oh ye degenerate perverts to the roast of our Lord and
fucking Master Pig Latin and his fine literary work, Tales of Perversion Zine,<o:p></o:p></i></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b><i>here in our undisclosed location- high atop the Tales
of Perversion Towers of Doom, Despair and Desolation, within the ritual
sanctum, on the reconstructed set of Dean Martin’s old-school</i></b> ‘<b>Man-of-the-Hour</b>’
<b><i>roast.<o:p></o:p></i></b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b><i>I'm Rick Smith of TORCHE and I will be your host tonight... Spic Latin, I meant Pig Latin, asked me to host this fiasco because he needed a celebrity to validate his roast! Let me tell you, after taking a glance at these hacks assembled here, my gardener could have been a celebrity next to these nobodies. </i></b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU HACKS?!</b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b><i>Our honored guest Pig Latin began his unholy mission of
spreading filth in 2006 with the epic Tales of Perversion Zine Issue One. He
interviewed my old band </i>Mehkago N.T.</b> <b><i>for that issue and all throughout the
questioning I kept saying to myself, “Christ, we need a wall around this
country, with another wall around the first wall! Pig never thought of doing
another issue of Tales because his wife would have killed him if he ever wrote
another story about banging call-girls. Unfortunately, that left him with no
material. <o:p></o:p></i></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b><i>But alas, after a couple of years of having nothing
better to do, he reinvented Tales’ into a bigger, better, piece of shit! To see
this zine go is sad indeed, but not as sad as this Dais. What a bunch of
losers! I would have written a few zingers about these guys until I realized, I
have no idea who any of these people are nor what they do… <o:p></o:p></i></b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b><i>Kevin Stewart Panko, thank you for being here! Ladies
and gentlemen, Kevin is an author, contributing writer to Decibel Magazine, and
a douche-bag! That’s some career you must be having if you were willing to
associate with this line-up of bums we got here. Decibel Magazine, huh?! That’s
kind of like Hit Parader, only with inverted crosses instead of lipstick and
mascara. <o:p></o:p></i></b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b><i>Brent Webb is also joining us tonight, folks… (Just in case
anybody cared!)Brent is the editor of Dirt Merchant fanzine, another piece of
shit that nobody without webbed fingers would read.<o:p></o:p></i></b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b><i>Joining us tonight also is the great Adel ‘156’ Souto. I’m
glad to see him in Miami again for this shindig. I had a couple of good jokes
on him, but I tossed them because… well, he scares the shit out of me. The
motherfucker is disturbing. Have you ever seen <u>feastofhateandfear.com </u>? <o:p></o:p></i></b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b><i>The great Rich O’Brian of Darkside NYC is here tonight
all the way from Brooklyn, New York. I understand that Rich is a huge fan of
Celtic Frost… and from looking at the size of him he must also be a big fan of
Celtic frosting. Rich is such an Irish drunk that last time he took a
breathalyzer the buzzer played “Danny Boy”. But enough of me going on about these losers... Let's start this piece of shit show so I can go back on tour and partake of juicy, sweaty road-pussy...<o:p></o:p></i></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b><i>Our first roaster is from the great state of Kentucky
where nothing spells lovin’ like plantin’ seed in your cousin… Give it up for
Brent Webb of Dirt Merchant fanzine… </i></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="color: #444444;"> </span><b>I will try and make this snappy so that all you human fucking tapeworms can get back to your heroin, kiddie porn, and American Idol. My Grandaddy had lots of old country sayings, one of my all time favorites was "Joke em if they cant take a fuck!" Try and bear that in mind as we move on ahead. What an honor it is to be doing this thing alongside such revered and respected members of the metal community! Proud as fuck to be sharing the podium with the guy from DARKSIDE NYC. Now I know I`m supposed to be up here talking miles of shit, but this po' dumb ass country boy is smarter than that. I know better than to fuck with these crazy Yankees. I got hold of some of your stuff back in the tape trading days, chock full of that trademark NYC bleakness and ferocity. Also we got TORCHE in the house. I hope the tour you guys recently did with KEN MODE went well. I caught TORCHE at a fest called EMMISSIONS FROM THE MONOLITH in Youngstown Ohio back in 2005. We got a huge name here with us in professional metal scribe and published author Kevin Stewart Panko! He was kind enough to review the first issue of DIRT MERCHANT in MetalManiacs (R.I.P.) back in October 2007. Being featured in the Zine And Not Heard section was indeed a high honor, and for a little bit there I felt like John fuckin Grisham. Check out the dude`s new book, and read his stuff monthly in DECIBEL magazine. Thank you for all that you do sir, say hello to Bret "the Hitman" Hart for me, and please dude, no more stupid fucking haiku poem album reviews. Seriously man knock it off, nobody reads that shit. Now that the bland, bullshit introductory pleasantries have been exchanged lets get on with it...</b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"> <b>Listen up assholes! This occasion marks a very sad moment in our brief, cruel, future-less existence on this doomed planet. We are here to bid farewell to a legendary, iconic,and metal as all fuck fanzine TALES of PERVERSION. This senseless waste of paper was unleashed upon us by a being known only as Pig Latin, his real name lost forever in a low hanging fog of regret and reefer smoke. We live in an age where printed media is dying a long, slow, agonizing death. Pig Latin is that dude who wants and needs to desecrate its withered corpse before it finally goes tits up and feet first into the church. He is not unlike that annoying, skeevy, long lost loser relative who wants to divide up and pawn Granny's jewelry two weeks before the old bitch is even dead. In TALES of PERVERSION`s mercifully brief run, we learned that drug-fueled delusion, Satan, and piss poor design can sometimes mesh well together, just not in this zine. I can remember a time in this once great nation when fanzines used to uphold high standards, and used to actually mean something. Unfortunately my friends, that era is as dead as Dimebag. This is what we get, and what we deserve for outsourcing this precious commodity to commie, dope pedaling, parasitic, probably gay, job stealing immigrants like Pig Latin. If peopleofwalmart.com has taught us anything it is this: Florida is the epicenter of the U.S.A.`s fucked-up-ness. That is a shit ugly thing to say, but its a sober fact that can not be disputed or denied. Miami in particular is a festering, itchy, weeping shanker sore on the so called sunshine state, or as Homer Simpson called it "America`s wang." This is the very same cultural void that shat forth the likes of: 2 Live Crew, Gloria Estefan, Ricky Martin, Barry Gib, Ben Vereen and elected Jeb Bush. It is a land rife with slow driving coffin dodgers, dickhead cops, fratjock spring breakers, Disney cultists, and garbage strewn beaches. Its chief exports are dope, skin cancer, death metal, and the greasiest pulled pork sandwiches on the planet. God chose to smite the place with giant invasive man eating snakes and tons of BP petro-sludge for a fucking reason people! Those bein' the facts, I have no trouble believing that a pile of foamy dog puke such as Pig Latin hails from this god forsaken place. (my second guess would naturally have been Ohio.) My detailed and extensive knowledge of this city comes from reruns of Dexter, Miami Vice, Golden Girls, and COPS, so it's safe to say I know what the fuck I'm talkin' about!!</b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b> I am told by my sources that Pig Latin is Cuban, motherfucker probably floated over here on a chicken wing or a beach ball or something. I am certain that as soon as he washed ashore he began to spread his Castro backed agenda of anchor babies, welfare fraud, coke dealing, sexually-suggestive dance moves, and the erosion of the capitalist system from within. All of this while poisoning the American youth with his propaganda in the pages of TALES of PERVERSION. President Kennedy shoulda nuked that fucking place off the map back in 62 when we had the chance!</b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b> TALES of PERVERSION taught its readers many important things about life. It showed us all that you do not need journalistic integrity, tact, or even real bands and real interviews to create content. You WILL NOT find such tripe in the pages of my fine publication DIRT MERCHANT. Truth be told Pig Latin has been ripping me off for ideas since day one! Honestly the man is a shameless hack, the rat fuck stole all my best ideas. Fake interviews: stolen from my issue # 4. His fake bands: stolen DIRECTLY from me!Ever hear of misogynist Bullit county KY black metal gods OVARIAN FROST ?? What about TRANNYFORCE, Louisville`s groundbreaking transgender speed metal band?? Ever heard of MANHAMMER?? Hardin county correctional center`s only acoustic power metal trio? OF COURSE YOU HAVN`T YOU DUMMYS, I MADE THE SHIT UP!! Bad cut and paste layout: check. Heavy emphasis on self hatred and porn: check. Brainsick rants and useless top ten lists: check. Phony sponsors selling phony products: check. The list goes on and on, I can not cut a silent fart without this guy smelling it. Pig Latin, quit trying to be me! You can stop telling me how great I am because I already know. This type of shit is what your 150 $ an hour shrink refers to as "Displacement." Look it up next time you`re in his office weeping like a child who finds her dog dead in the road.</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b> TALES of PERVERSION was not a good zine, or even a well liked zine, but it was definitely a zine. It is right and fitting that it now takes it rightful place in history`s unmarked mass fanzine grave. A blindfolded chimp with a pencil in his teeth coulda done a better job than this. I will always treasure it, especially when I need to roll a doobie on something, or require some apocalypse T.P. If I ever have an unwanted house-guest, lingering like an elevator fart, Ill just hand them a copy and soon enough they'll leave. Without question this man is a danger to both the living and the dead, and It saddens me to know that Pig Latin`s mission is far from done. In all likelihood we have not seen his last satanic commie hate rag, and rest assured that his blog will continue to reek up the interhole for decades to come. He does this shit for the same reason all scumbag perverts do, he is compelled. Like the death flies swarming on a starving African child`s face, he will never truly be satisfied. He has come way too far to ever turn back, and perhaps one day death will stop his incessant yattering once and for all. I seriously fucking doubt it though. Each passing day he sucks away precious oxygen that kids and puppy dogs could be breathing. Like many of you reading this he routinely siphons away valued time and resources, yet contributes nothing. Pig Latin I suggest you contemplate your sick sad life by listening to THE QUEEN IS DEAD on repeat while you re-hydrate by drinking your own tears. I hope its not too harsh to say but, you should be dragged through the streets behind a herd of horses that have diarrhea. You should be killed until you die from it, decapitated, and then taken to be tortured. If there is any justice at all in this fucking world you will perish unloved, unmourned, and forgotten. Your mortal husk then dumped in a featureless grave marked only by crabgrass and dead weeds, banished back into the oblivion that birthed you. By the way dickbag, I still have not received my TALES of PERVERSION T shirt size girly XTRA small. ( ONLY 99.99$ plus 10$ shipping and handling!!) Please get it to me soon. I feel I`ve been very patient in this matter. I've said my piece, thanks for reading it. And now, if yall will kindly excuse me, I`m due in court. Suck the shit outta my ass.</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b><i>Ouch! Holy Fuck, that was brutal... If that's any indication of what's to come...</i></b></span><br />
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</i></b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b><i>Alright, Brent Webb everybody, let's give it up... I thought he'd never stop type-yapping. Anyways, our next guest is known for his extremely boring music
reviews in Decibel Magazine and his excellent column Zine Police… Please
welcome, Kevin Stewart Panko…</i></b><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>[I see that] Brent from Dirt Merchant is here. Well, at least we think he is. He could walk
in here wearing a gold lamé thong, with “I rape kids for fun, money and fame”
tattooed on his forehead, a rainbow-coloured peacock feathered dildo hanging
out of his most unholy of orifices and carrying a 4’x5’ sign reading “I’m Brent
and I do Dirt Merchant ‘zine” and
people would still ask when the fucking appetizers are going to be ready,
goddamnit. As someone who reads ‘zines and has done ‘zine columns for a host of
other ‘zines and glossy-ass metal publications for over umpteen numbers of years,
I think I remember reading an issue of Dirt
Merchant once. It’s also pretty obvious I’ve forgotten I read a Dirt Merchant once. For shits and giggles,
I did a Google search on said literary masterstroke and every link that came up
was either broken or abandoned. It’s like no one wants anything to do with Brent
and his creation. Not only that, but no one even wants to admit to knowing
anything about him on the internet – the place where fuckwads of all stripes,
shades and illegal compunctions can find a community to rally around them. But
not Brent. No one gives a fuck. You probably don’t and probably shouldn’t start
either. <o:p></o:p></b></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b> I guess Adel 156 Souto can be viewed as a
respected and ongoing contributing member of the ‘zine community, in the same
way Pig Latin is respected amongst the scab-riddled prostitutes he frequently
“dated” while eking his way through community college. Honestly, Adel has been
on the receiving end of more recognition and respect than any ‘zine anyone here
has ever done has received – especially u-no-hoo - so good on ya, man. Not that
we’ve ever met, or that I know you or anything about you. But, in trying to
find out a little about the man, what I did discover was that Adel was the
former frontman for Timescape Zero, a blip on the pimply afterthought of the
extreme music timeline known as 90s Florida hardcore. If Bird of Ill Omen and Dragbody
were cohorts and indication of what Timescape Zero sounded like, I think I’ll
pass, much like much of the rest of world has.</b></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>Rick Smith from Shitstorm and Torche hosting tonight...<o:p></o:p></b></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>This is one of those moments when I’m
reaching to fall into the party line – the party line being a bit more
cantankerous and insult-based than regular party lines, mind you - and the task
at hand. I’ve been a massive fan of Torche since day two. Yes, I can admit that
I don’t own any of the answering machine recordings Rick, Steve Brooks,
Jonathan Nunez and original guitarist Juan Montoya left one another in the
discussions when forming Torche, or the pre-first album demos or the original
bed tracks that Mr. Smith “inadvertently’ leaked via file sharing to some German
dude. Let’s remember that Herr Whoever probably thanked him in the process of
accessing his computer and buried some kiddie scat porn up in them electronic
guts. However, I do remember Andy at Robotic Empire sending me an advance of the
first Torche album and I’ve been a massive fan ever since. Rick’s a
thunderously fucking amazing drummer, so I can’t shit on the guy for being the
backbone to various years of rocking out as well as the background music to my
many failed attempts at beach volleyball, picking up sluts in bikinis and
drinking 20 beers in the sun and trying not to pass out/get sunstroke/dehydration.
Shit, I even like Tyranny of Shaw (and no one liked Tyranny of Shaw) and can
tolerate Shitstorm, though I may have fallen asleep during their set at Dudefest
a few years back. So, there’s not a lot I can rip on Rick about. Except maybe
telling him to stop taking his shirt off during Torche shows no matter how hot
it gets. No one needs to see that. Seriously dude, you run the risk of turning
Brooks straight.<o:p></o:p></b></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>Pig Latin tells me that Rich O’Brien was a
member of “cult NYHC legends” Darkside NYHC. Shit, when did Webster’s change,
nay totally abridge, its definition of ‘legend’? Should have known; taking
musical recommendations from Pig Latin is about as good an idea going on sex
tourist vacation to Haiti without condoms.<o:p></o:p></b></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>And now for our guest of dishonour…This
dude loves jerking off over the sign of the Baphomet, jerking off at porn shops
while on drugs, jerking off onto any album recorded previous to 1987, jerking
off on the pock-marked mugs of street-bought hoochies straight outta Hialeah…I
could go on, and he does so much so that we can only assume his stomach hair
and skin are as crusty as the stink hole from which he was birthed. Pig Latin
has made no bones about openly describing and embellishing the most minute,
horrifyingly dark and embarrassing details of everything that has ever happened
to him in his life. He’s done this continually over the course of however many
issues of his ‘zine that no one read, except yours truly, the biggest sucker
out there, it would seem. Sure, it was all good and fun for a read during those
moments you’re unleashing one of those watery dumps that just doesn’t stop and
helped confirm that there’s someone out there who’s life is more fucked up than
mine, but at some point you gotta do the right thing. So, when the city I live
in expanded its recycling program, I offered up the numerous copies of his
collection of sordid tales put into ‘zine format for use in demonstrating what
goes in the recycling and compost boxes. There’s a huge list of anti-social
behaviour that Pig Latin himself offer up as fair game for this little good
natured rip ‘n’ tear, but he’s already spilled so many beans on his own dime
that having any of us roast him is like calling the kettle black. Though having
Pig Latin calling anything black is pretty ironic, that racist motherfucker.</b></span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b><i>Our next guest is a musician, writer, and will probably be seen on A&E channel at some point when they profile him on Weirdos and Lunatics week... Please welcome, the one, the only, Adel 156 of Feast of Hate and Fear Zine...</i></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>Look, this is going to be short
because, while half of the time I don’t know what I’m talking about, this half
of the time, I don’t know who I’m talking about.Years ago, I get some rag in
the mail, titled Tales of Perversion, with a love letter by some street cat who
goes by the name Pig Latin. I got out of town quick, but Issue Two soon found
its way to me.Who knew it would last so long? I had no clue who or what was
sending me this trash, but once the detective I hired had shown me photographs
of what a greasy Spic my soon-to-be stalker was, I understood the pseudonym.The
mag was a hodgepodge of puns, and more anal worship than Satanism. All the
wrong things with the black-clad crowd. My sensibilities were hurt, and Mr.
Latin<o:p></o:p></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>and his crew had not only gotten my
goat, but were ready to sacrifice her! I had to scram. All that I loved was at
stake.By Issue Three, I was doing the normal thing stars of my caliber do: write
mascara-stained letters soaked in tears, begging that Pig just stop it, and
leave me alone. But no, the heartless bastard continued with ad after ponderous
ad of fag jokes, and review next to review dropping the “r” from “nigger”, so
he doesn’t get beat up when he shows that pig nose at Churchill’s Pub.<o:p></o:p></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>Finally, to get away from a crazy ex,
I hid, and hid well. This swine tracks me down like a truffle, and sends Issue
Four. After the most tedious read of my life, I left it in the tattoo shops
bathroom, where months later I flipped through it, found pages missing, and
knew Tales of Perversion was finally being used for what it was truly meant
for: toilet paper. As any other great magician would, I sent out a psychic
vibration, while<o:p></o:p></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>sitting on the can (some of the most
powerful magic around), resonating to him what I had discovered, and he got the
message.<o:p></o:p></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>I blame myself for the death of this
fanzine. Hurray, and shame on me! I hope Pig Latin dies along with it, but I’m
certain any day now I’ll be mailed the newest cassette from Porkie and the
Peepholes, or some other crappy gothic-blackmetal-punk hybrid he’s trying to
infect all our ears with. Like mites, he will get in. Treat him as such.For
future reference: burn the packages before you even open them.</b><o:p></o:p></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b><i>Our next guest is from New York Hardcore outfit Darkside NYC... Make sure to check out their upcoming double album Optimism is Self Deception... If you do check it out, well, then I guess you'd be the one solitary person that gave a shit... Please welcome, the Irish Dandy, Rich Ooooooo Brian!!!!</i></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; line-height: normal;"><b>I never knew people from MIAMI could be as soft as Pig Latin over here.</b></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; line-height: normal;"></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; line-height: normal;"><b>This nigga's softer than a nerf dildo. If you punch him, you don't even break nothing. Your fist just sinks all the way in, and after you yank it out, you get to watch the imprint slowly disappear again. Like those memory foam mattresses and shit. What no one can actually explain is how he got those hand grip marks around his love handles that are damn near permanent.</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; line-height: normal;"><b>Pig Latin? More like Fig Newton. Ay yo, this greasy bastard sweats like a god-damned pig, so maybe that's where he got his nickname. Some slobs have ring around the collar. This muthafucka's just like one big yellow stain... with a petri dish of yeast in every crevice. This prick wakes up with mushrooms sprouting out his blubber creases.</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; line-height: normal;"><b>Pig Latin looks like a rejected casting call wannabe for “Chico and the Man”. Or maybe “Welcome Back Kotter”. </b></span><b style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: normal;">I can’t say Fame, cause he has no specific talent!</b></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; line-height: normal;"><b>Unless you could call being WACK as FUCK a talent!! Well, then… I must say we’ve got ourselves a helluva show tonight.</b></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; line-height: normal;"></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; line-height: normal;"><b>As far as musical tastes go, I suppose there's "muthafuckaz" with MORE estrogen... but he up there. You can just picture this dude with his techno-ass shit on:</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; line-height: normal;"><b>*BOOP BOOP BOOP BOOP*</b></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; line-height: normal;"></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; line-height: normal;"><b>Nodding his head, twirling his fingers in front of his face, making kissy-face expressions. </b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; line-height: normal;"><b>Feathers popping out of the woofers. Handclaps. Synth hooks. Shit that make "What Is Love" sound downright evil.</b></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; line-height: normal;"></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; line-height: normal;"><b>Hey Fig, those loops got the sugarplums and fairy dust spinning around your head like a homo halo!</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; line-height: normal;"><b>Look at him. The only muthafucka who "Rick Rolls" himself. On purpose. Repeatedly.</b></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; line-height: normal;"></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; line-height: normal;"><b>This nigga's itunes playlist is like an 11-year old girl's diary. Then he starts blabbering about Agnostic Front and Black Sabbath, but DUDE WE ALREADY KNOW! In all fairness, it's cute that you recognize a Sabbath song when it comes on the radio. I mean, there's only like 2 you can identify, but it's a start at least.</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; line-height: normal;"><b>I heard you were straight-edge once. Not particularly "straight" nah mean hahaha, but when you start a gang called the fuckin' Jolly Ranchers, it almost goes without saying!</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; line-height: normal;"><b>Let's see... Naming yourself after something you suck on, that melts and shrinks to nothing? Do I even have to TELL jokes or could they write themselves at this juncture?</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; line-height: normal;"><b>It's like:</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; line-height: normal;"><b>"HOLY SHIT, THE HELLS ANGELS ARE AFTER ME"...</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; line-height: normal;"><b>"OH MY GOD, THE BLOODS AND THE CRIPS WANT ME DEAD"... </b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; line-height: normal;"><b>"Ummmmm... Errr... The Jolly Ranchers are on their way?" </b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; line-height: normal;"><b>Uhhhhhhh, we'd better get THE FUCK OUTTA HERE!!!!! Dump your beers quick!</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; line-height: normal;"><b>So Fig Newton asks me to “roast” him. (Isn't he more of a deep-fried kinda nigga?)</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; line-height: normal;"><b>Well he asked all his friends, and apparently he doesn't have very many, cause all I see on the panel are assorted freaks and weirdos from different states and shit. Like, have you actually ever met any of these people in real life??? I mean, look at who you got to do this shit!!!</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; line-height: normal;"><b>Adel 156. He played in a band called Timescape Zero which, with a name like that, sounds like it might be innovative.</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; line-height: normal;"><b>Well, it WASN'T, but it could have been…</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; line-height: normal;"><b>So then he's into interviewing SERIAL KILLERS... But he's too scared to actually go INTO a prison, so he does everything over the phone or by letter. Not exactly Norman Fuckin Mailer, are ya?</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; line-height: normal;"><b>Cause, ya know, Ramirez was just such a fascinating fucking dude! hahaha</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; line-height: normal;"><b>Did you pose as a woman and offer him a conjugal visit to get him to answer your letters?</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; line-height: normal;"><b>I’d say more about Adel, but after finally reading some of the shit he wrote on his Feast of Hate and Fear blog, I’m actually thinking I should be quite terrified of him. </b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; line-height: normal;"><b>Then there’s this Kevin Stewart-Panko guy who writes for inferior metal publications? How's he so friggin important? He's still bitter about that time he tried to interview Slayer and Kerry King made him cry!</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; line-height: normal;"><b>Bro, it's really hard to bounce back after some shit like that, but you can't just GIVE UP! Are you seriously calling yourself a journalist when you're only interviewing new bands, cause the established ones are "meanies"? You're weaker than furry handcuffs and bunny slippers, G.</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; line-height: normal;"><b>So then he starts writing his own fuckin blogs and shit. Talking about his favorite metal albums like Bullet For My Valentine and Avenged Sevendust are better than Venom and Possessed, to stir up some controversy. Then he goes and comments on his own shit to make it look like he got more followers.</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; line-height: normal;"><b>May as well just stick to writing reviews. You know how the Source gave out mics? You can be like 2 balls, 3½ dicks, etc.</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; line-height: normal;"><b>My Canada made Voivod; yours: Nickelback.</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; line-height: normal;"><b>Which brings me full circle back to the wack as fuck homie who keeps insisting he be referred to as "Pig Latin". </b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; line-height: normal;"><b>You filthy animal, scrub behind those ears you greasy Cuban Rican. And trim your mushrooms.</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; line-height: normal;"><b>So some unsavory characters recently broke Fig’s windows outside of Churchill’s. But they didn’t take nothing.</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; line-height: normal;"><b>Cause he was too bummy to hang a “no radio” sign up? haha</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; line-height: normal;"><b>There were some chicken bones arranged in a circle on the dashboard, so it could have been the voodoo. It is “Little Haiti” after all… Maybe they were looking for some dirt biscuits. Or then again, it could have just been Adel playing a practical joke!</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; line-height: normal;"><b>Speaking of guys who need to stay away from Little Haiti, there’s Brett from Dirt Merchant. Actually maybe if he hired some guys, he could get a little side business happening.</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; line-height: normal;"><b>“Ladies and gentleman… yo yo yo !... I got zines… I got biscuits… Here’s the new issue with Wyclef on the cover!”</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; line-height: normal;"><b>Haitians can’t break HIS side window; he’s already got a burlap sack duct-taped over his shit.</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; line-height: normal;"><b>Actually I just said that to be funny. Tractors don’t have fucking side windows!</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; line-height: normal;"><b>Just don’t leave it parked with a full tank. Someone may come around and siphon out the gas, thereby reducing the vehicle’s value by 75%.</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; line-height: normal;"><b>The problem with Appalachians – well besides that they live in Appalachia – is that even the straight edge vegans have meth mouth. Must be all the Mountain Dew – that shit’ll kill ya!</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; line-height: normal;"><b>Mountain Dew is even sold in the baby aisle down there. “H-uhh… Enfamil? – Whut duh fuk iz DAT?”</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; line-height: normal;"><b>Hey give em SOME credit for not letting kids drink moonshine til they’re 8.</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; line-height: normal;"><b>Also, can’t forget that in most counties, foreplay consists of sliding off a saddle.</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; line-height: normal;"><b>Brett’s been talking mad shit lately, but I don’t believe a word of anything that comes outta his mouth. Dude lies right through his tooth.</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; line-height: normal;"><b>And what about Rick Smith. I didn’t even wanna roast this guy, I felt so sorry for him, but Fig Newton begged me to.</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; line-height: normal;"><b>Plays in a band called Torche.</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; line-height: normal;"><b>Uh… WHAT?</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; line-height: normal;"><b>Don’t you think he shoulda come up with something more befitting?</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; line-height: normal;"><b>How about… FLASHLIGHT APP?… or Weak-Ass Lighter?</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; line-height: normal;"><b>You think Brett Dirt Muncher listens to Torche while he’s sitting on his ‘porche’... spitting into his spittoon?</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; line-height: normal;"><b>To be totally honest, I never even heard of this band. So I went on Wikipedia and it said their music “provides a wide range of emotions”. I totally get that. Apathy, indifference, extreme boredom…</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; line-height: normal;"><b>Torche – HA! Don’t pass it to me.</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; line-height: normal;"><b>Rick Smith apparently moonlights in tougher, crustier bands such as Shit Storm and Mehkago NT in an attempt to preserve some sense of machismo. I can’t say if it’s working exactly, but ya gotta give credit for trying!</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; line-height: normal;"><b>~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; line-height: normal;"><b>Man, I just really don’t understand how I get involved in shit like this. Really, I don’t.</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; line-height: normal;"><b>Fig Newton sent me copies of his zine, trying to impress me and shit. I was like "Cool. An actual printed zine." Til I open one up...</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; line-height: normal;"><b>Tales of Perversion indeed. I pull it out of my bag on the subway, and I hadda slam it shut! People were looking at me FUCKED UP!</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; line-height: normal;"><b>I mean, Satanic cartoons, animal sacrifice, torture porn notwithstanding... this ain't family-friendly to begin with! But then ya hadda go and put cocks on every page? You're like ANSWER ME! with floral flip-flops and a pleated skirt on.</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; line-height: normal;"><b>If this is your idea of a swansong, you know where you can shove the dove.</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b><i>Wow, kind of brutal... Well ladies and germs, a very high bench-mark has been set by this performance given here courtesy of this strapping ginger lad, who from my angle looks like a young John Candy... if he had been from Tromaville. And now, ladies and gents... the man of the hour... From high atop the Tales Of Perversion Black Ivory Towers of Doom, Despair, Desolation, Destruction and Depressive Black Metal... Our Lord And Fucking Master...</i></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: x-large;">Pig Latin!!!!!!!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>Thank you, Rick. The great Rick Smith of Torche, ladies
and germs! That’s pronounced Torch, not ‘tor-chay’ as the alternate spelling
might suggest. The “E” is silent… as in the word DOUCHE for example! For fuck sake, what’s with the "Harmonicraft" album cover and all those rainbows? You could not have picked a
gayer album cover. What’s on the cover of the next record… a treasure map
leading to Steve Brook’s asshole?! </b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>Boy, your ass was given a thorough lathering via the probing tongues of Brent Webb and Kevin Panko! What an ass-smooching those two star-struck little fairies administered to your hairy tuchus! They gave you such a verbal rim-job that your corn-hole probably feels all wet and squishy, but from the looks of that Harmonicraft album cover, that's a feeling that you should probably grow accustomed to... </b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><b>Hi-Yoooo!!!</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b> And by the way, thanks for adding absolutely no delivery to the jokes that I wrote for you! Way to deliver a punchline there, Rick. <o:p></o:p></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>Okay you hacks, time to take your lumps! O'Brian you look like you are composed entirely of lumps... Anyways, You
motherfuckers are as unfunny as you are unattractive, unimportant, unneeded, and unloved...</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>Look at you mutants! I have never seen a more diverse sampler pack of evolution-forsaken humanoids in my life... Where to begin, where to begin, I guess I'll start at the very bottom of the totem pole...</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>My dear colleague Brent Webb has joined us tonight, all the way from the bluegrass state. What can
I say about Brent Webb and Dirt Merchant zine… except for </b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>WHO THE FUCK IS Brent
Webb and Dirt Merchant zine! </b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>Brent is so inbred his family tree has no branches.
Brent, you’re such a six-toed redneck! This roast was supposed to be a surprise, but
Brent gave it right the fuck away by parking his hunk-of-shit RV right in front of the
joint!</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b> That’s how I know Brent is a mega-hick, his home is mobile but the
three cars parked on his lawn aren’t… </b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b> Brent
publishes Dirt Merchant, a cut and paste piece of crap with zero material.
Hey douche-bag, I’ve seen more content in the results of my last STD test. Write a bit, for
Christ sake. </b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>I steal ideas from you, you say? Bitch please! You have been tugging away at your little tadpole cock to T.O.P. for years before you contacted me. Oh, and such effort you put into writing me a note on the back panel of a Miller 12-pack, just so I'd say "Ooh, he's so wacky". </b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>Even if I did steal the phony band idea, come on, those corny ass names you came up with combined cannot come near the mighty NEGROPHILIA, or even WINTERFRESH PAGAN MOONBEAM.</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b> Brent was almost unable to make it tonight because he almost got stuck
babysitting. He recently became a dad, so everyone make sure to congratulate
Brent…congratulate him that he finally found a woman willing to have sex with
him. Brent, let’s face the facts; you couldn’t get laid in a mattress factory.
Chaz Bono’s reconstructed clit-cock has more sex-appeal than you, and probably sees a lot more strange trim... <o:p></o:p></b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>And what was with the word count on your bit? You just bored every reader into clicking out of this roast and straight to YouPorn. </b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>Kevin Stewart Panko is joining us on this Dais! And no, he's not retarded, he's just Canadian, which explains why he's in Miami in Bermuda shorts, Teva sandals and black socks. The parking valets better not expect a tip from this cheap-skate! </b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>I'm actually honored that Kevin agreed to honor me this eve, especially considering that he took time from his busy schedule of milking his prostate to the mental sight of Rick Smith playing drums in his musty boxer briefs just to come sit next to an even bigger bunch of nobodies... I'm a big fan of Kevin's writing in Decibel. I particularly like dissecting the actual substance from the filler-fluff that he uses to pad his pieces, done masterfully to satisfy Albert Mudrian's draconian word minimums, which judging by Kevin's inflated hack writing, isn't minimal enough. </b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>Congratulations on the book, by the way. Kevin's new book talks about his stories about crossing customs while on tour being a merch-table employee/hanger-on to (insert shit band here). Christ, you couldn't even make stories about jamming gerbils up your asshole an interesting read! I'll bet your girl/boyfriend/whatever it is that you fuck gives you a hard time about touring! Hey, that's OK because you probably get to enjoy the make-up sex afterwards... which is when you put on makeup and make love to your self... </b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>Hey, you like doing Haiku music reviews, huh?! Well, I got a Haiku review of your book:</b></span><br />
<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Panko wrote a book</span></b><br />
<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Gathers dust on distro shelf</span></b><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Panko's career done...</span></b><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b> Adel Heinz 57 is
here, or whatever the fuck your name is. Ah yes, 156, I beg your pardon. What’s
the 156 stand for? Is that the number of projects you’re involved in that
nobody gives a shit about? Maybe it’s the number of bodies you’ve dissected and
buried… you sick fuck!</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b> Back in the day, the guys would go to a hardcore show,
then go painting walls and maybe end up in a strip joint; Adel was busy
interviewing serial killers and reviewing snuff porn. Psychopath much?! Hey
Adel, if you ever do some fucked up son-of-Sam type of shit I know a safe place you can hide where
no one will think to look… in Kevin Stewart Panko’s career. Adel-star69
is the editor, writer and publisher of the legendary Miami zine Feast of Hate
and Fear. What’s with the long ass name? I guess that "Banquet of Boring Bullshit" must have
already been taken. Here’s a tip jerk-off, don’t give your zine a name that has more syllables than it has readers! </b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>Adel-OU812 is also a musician. His
first work was in the influential Miami hardcore band Timescape Zero. I say
influential because every time they played they influenced me to get right the
fuck out of the venue! Timescape Zero was a great name, the term Timescape must be a
synonym for talent!</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>Talent Zero... sounds right!</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>Look at you, you’re disturbing! You look like a
Hare Krishna suicide bomber. Adel 560QAM
once did a bit where he taught himself to write with both hands, so now his
writing is actually twice as uninteresting. He also did a bit where he stopped
speaking for a while... unfortunately, those that read his work are still
waiting for him to do a bit where he stops writing...<o:p></o:p></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>You know
what else the 156 could stand for? Rich O’Brien’s blood alcohol level! The
great Rich O’Brien has graced us with his presence on this Dais. Rich is a
great talent, and one of the driving forces behind the classic second wave New York Hard
Core band Darkside NYC!<o:p></o:p></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b> He was such a driving force in fact that he drove them
right the fuck out of Hardcore and straight into obscurity! <o:p></o:p></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b> Rich is the sole lyricist in the band, which
explains why the lyric sheets are usually in crayon! </b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>Rich, you drunken mick
bastard, you! Rich is Irish, which means he’s Europe’s version of the Puerto-Rican, and that
explains his obsession with forties and his use of the word ‘nigga’. Rich say’s
‘nigga’ so much you’d think he was in the middle of Brent Webb's regression therapy. <o:p></o:p></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>No? Too
cerebral, that joke?! Okay, how about this one, Rich says nigga so much you’d think he was
talking to his liver! That's right, Rich’s liver is so small, shriveled and black that it looks like Sandra Bullock's adopted African baby. Let’s face it, you’ve never seen
this guy in public without a cooler full of forties. Ever heard the saying you are what you eat? Well, Rich has drunk so many
forties, he is now shaped like one! Look at you, you pudgy bastard… You look
like a gargoyle from an Irish bakery! You're a disgrace! O'Brian played Miami earlier this month and between us the last time that I saw something that fat, drunk and sloppy Brent Webb was taking IT to senior prom... his fourth senior prom; cause he was a senior four times... In Kentucky, they call that a doctorate.</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>Back to you, O'Malley...</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>Optimism is Self Deception, huh?! </b></span><br />
<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Well, here's a title for you ...</span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; text-indent: 0.5in;">Obesity is Slow Death. </span></b><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; text-indent: 0.5in;"><b>Maybe you're next band should be called GIRTH CRISIS! </b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>And by the way, my gang wasn't called Jolly Ranchers like the candy, it was JOLLY ROGERS like the symbol of piracy! But how would you know about pirates, when you're too busy looking for sailors... (pronounced: thay-lors)</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>You big lummox! Rich is such a moron that he still hasn’t figured out why when his physician checks his prostate he usually rests
both hand’s on his shoulder. Darkside NYC’s new joint is about to drop and I’m
excited about that, but I’m a bigger fan of the old stuff, you know, when they
were called Sheer Terror. Seriously O'Brian, that new piece of shit record is going to suck so bad that Kevin Stewart
Panko is going to label it underrated! I have a copy and I swear that when I listen to it I keep thinking it's the audio reel of my last Colonoscopy. And by the way Rich, your comedy sucks as much as your new album and it's twice as bad as
your vocals. Isn't DARKSIDE a prog/dance duo now?<o:p></o:p></b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b><br /></b></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>BOOP-BOOP-BOOP-BOOP-BOOP-BOOP</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">But alas, I stand before all of thee on this stage, still your Lord and Fucking Master after a 7 year reign of literary, fanzine terror! Say what all of thou wilt of my writing style, but none of you dick-zits have ever flipped through a rag like TALES! It is alone in a crowd; a stellar standout in a sea of PC, scene-unity swill. It was Maximum Rock&Roll for those who max smokin' rocks with Hos. TALES was the <i>raison d'etre</i> of every wide-eyed Miami youth who studied its' pages since it's unholy inception by myself, a then 31 year old pill and weed addict, conceived and executed over a weekend in my moms house with nothing but scissors, paste, a bic pen, an ounce of weed, my mom's Diazepam scrip and King Diamond's "Abigail" and "Them" albums. On that faithful eve in 2006, I, your then non-pussy-getting infernal majesty had reinvented the proverbial wheel! I produced the fanzine equivalent of a cure to AIDS, Cancer and Rich O'Brian's pattern baldness in one fell swoop. Even the real Rick Smith, a celebrity (relatively), has given Tales Of Perversion his ringing celebrity endorsement in saying it's "the greatest fanzine ever!"</span></b><br />
<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></b>
<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">But where is my due homage? Where is my golden calf to which you humanoids can lay your offerings and obeisances unto me? Where is my Pulitzer prize, my red brick mansion, and three 19 year old Japanese broads chained to the water heater in my basement?</span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> </span></b><br />
<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Where are the wages of my sin?</span></b><br />
<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></b>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>Oh, this was it, huh?</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b><br /></b></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>Who will you all turn to now when that Galapagos-sized turtle-head turns your bittersweet shit-fun into a 20 minute, wall-punching ordeal? </b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>Since the publishing of Tales Of Perversion fanzine, the hemorrhoid rates have sky-rocketed amongst its double-digit sized readership, since no one can stand to put down TALES and climb off from the poop-throne. Just ask Brent Webb to bend over and you can see the bloody bunch of grapes that hang from his bung- an occupational hazard of being a total devotee of T.O.P, the fanzine also known as STUPIDITY FOR DUMMIES (the King Jaime Version)...</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b><br /></b></span>
<b>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Ultimately, this is true what my colleague Brent Webbed said, TALES will never truly go away. This blog will go on, sporadically, but nonetheless...</span></b><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b> But as for TALES OF PERVERSION in its original formula, printed fanzine form, I lay thee down to rest in a shallow watery grave. Many a suicide will follow this announcement, but that's the point! The destruction of the youth is the prime directive, whether it's moral, spiritual, psychological or physical destruction. I learned that from my old chum Adel Transylvania-5-6000, cultural terrorism! So long as I deliver fresh souls to my master Satan's fiery door, so that he may eat their livers and pick his fangs with their bones, than I've maintained my end of the contract...</b></span><br />
<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">So say goodbye to the bad guy, and take a good look, cause you will never see a bad guy like this again bitches and whores... My work here is done...</span></b><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">BEAM ME DOWN, ANTON!</span> </span><br />
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Lord Frankhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15782661284097098722noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9053398593058477345.post-55382121780529815862013-10-02T07:58:00.002-07:002013-10-02T16:00:33.077-07:00Tales Of Perversion Zine Calls It Quits!!! It's the end of an era for the Zine touted as "Satan's used toilet paper"!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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As of this Halloween 2013, Tales Of Perversion Zine, or what your infernal majesty Satan has labeled as "the greatest fanzine of all time", shall be no more. The infamous printed tome will be sepulchered for evermore; ritually and hermetically sealed in the Tales Of Perversion Industries catacombs where it can no longer possess the minds of it's devotees to kill, kill, kill.<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">That's right! The fanzine that brought you the following classic records through it's in-house label is no more:</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">note to self: striped Polo shirts are very un-Black Metal. Next time, just rock 2 bullet belts criss-crossed on torso.</td></tr>
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I regretfully inform my legions of fans that this is not a hoax.Truth is, that doing a zine in the year 2013 is not like it was back in my early 90's heyday, when stealing butt-loads of copies from Kinkos or Office Depot was a free-for-all; an articulate juvenile delinquent's wet dream. Today, in the age of the debit card, you can't even get copy one out of that Xerox machine until you swipe your BeastMark666 card, guaranteeing that every last piece of printed paper that shoots out of that sucker is on the books. That makes my dopey little hobby an expensive one! </div>
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I don't mind the devil using my idle hands as the medium for his intellectual masturbatory rites, but I prefer not to take a financial loss when tickling my dark Lord's cerebral prostate! Quite frankly, that is money that I could be smoking, ingesting in pill form, spending on internet porn, etc.</div>
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'Tales' had a good run, but now it's time to put that beaten horse down, as painfully and as inhumanely as possible. I don't know that conceptually this zine stood alone in a crowd, but I will cup my balls with my hand and spit before telling you that it was certainly one of the top 5 funniest fanzines ever. Bottom line! ...<br />
I will put my rag against any other goof zine and Tales will ass-rape any other dopey fanzine out there that likes to crack wise.<br />
<br />
Since this is the laughable and embarrassing culmination of my life's work, it needed a proper send off. What better way, I thought, then to send this thing off into further obscurity with a proper Roast? You know, like on Comedy Central...</div>
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And so, at some point during the last week of October, I will post the first-ever roast of a fanzine. I assembled a group of rag-tag misfits that will really be letting me have it. These pricks are going to sock it too me real good, and with good reason. The roasters will be the following:</div>
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<b>Brent Webb of Dirt Merchant Fanzine (Kentucky)</b></div>
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<b>Kevin Stewart Panko of Decibel Magazine</b></div>
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<b>Adel 156 of Feast Of Hate and Fear Zine (feastofhateandfear.com)</b></div>
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<b><br /></b></div>
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<b>Rich O'Brian of Darkside NYC</b><br />
<b><br /></b>
<b>with Special Guest Host:</b><br />
<b>Rick Smith of Torche/Shitstorm/Mehkago N.T.</b><br />
(well, he isn't actually hosting. I asked if I could use his likeness, in order to ride the coattails of his band's fame.)</div>
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We (me) at Tales Of Perversion Worldwide Industries Inc. would like to thank all of you children in heat that have kept Tales in business since 2006 through your patronage. It is, after all, for you the youth whom I do this for. Perhaps if you little fuckers would have actually paid for an issue instead of being a bunch of freeloaders than I'd probably be still doing the fucking zine, typing away into my sticky laptop while laying on bales of cash!<br />
<br />
But alas, every alpha has it's omega, and as for the printed version of Tales, Ouroboros is ready to blow himself... lucky bastard, I've been trying for years, but I just don't reach!<br />
The blog will stay up, and I will come into possession with the ghost of Pig Latin past and chime in from time to time, but for the most part, Tales Of Perversion is officially deceased now... Boo Hoo Hoo for my defunct periodical, it's so sad to lay you down, but the sad clown has run out of material. I painted myself into a corner, so we'll just leave it at that. Besides, with my blushing, corpse-painted bride preparing to bring my immensely hung Anti-Christ baby unto this plane of existence, who's got time for this Fanzine racket? I need to turn myself into a prosperous operative of Satan's work on Earth if I plan to afford feeding my demon seed! Isn't the little bastard just darling?!<br />
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Stop by later on this month and pay your respects! I know, I know, who the fuck wants to sit there READING a roast of some Zine that nobody has ever heard of...<br />
Listen, Redtube ain't going nowhere! You can cut away from whacking off to Vanessa Del Rio's Brillo-Bush to grab a few yucks on here... it won't kill you! Besides, this bit is really funny! Believe you me, these roasters tore me a new asshole, but wait till they get a load of the rebuttal! (Ha, I said load!) Their gonna wish they never showed up!!! </div>
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See ya then... Oodles of Toodles!</div>
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Lord Frankhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15782661284097098722noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9053398593058477345.post-79090362907920396672013-08-09T18:01:00.000-07:002013-08-20T18:17:47.764-07:00Fear and Loathing at a Black Sabbath concert...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Judging by this picture, one may conclude that I had horrible nosebleed seats for Black Sabbath's West Palm Beach gig, but it may surprise you to know that Dirty Harry and I probably had the best seats in the house. First of all, we had a clear line of visibility towards the stage, and although we weren't exactly within balcony view of Ozzy's geriatric shenanigans, we could clearly see the monitor, and that was good enough.<br />
Second, the music carried so well towards this particular spot that you wouldn't have believed it. I shot a one-minute clip on my cellphone and the sound was crystal clear even on my shitty MetroPCS android. (I posted it below, you judge for yourself!)<br />
Also, my associate and I had a very comfortable perimeter around us to stretch our legs. In summary, we had a nice spot where we wouldn't be distracted from worshiping the greatest heavy metal band of all time by assholes walking in and out of the aisle, staggering in and out like a bunch of hobos.<br />
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You can call sour grapes on me all you want, but those shit-heads in the front row can have the front row. I'll take the Bob Uecker special any day! A large mass of human bodies pushing the oxygen out of you by pressing you against a metal railing isn't my idea of the ideal concert experience. I'll paint an even better picture... What happens if at sometime during the show, you suddenly feel the abdominal trembles that foretell impending gastrointestinal doom? Then what? Good luck making your way through all of the cattle and out to the port-o-potty in time to save yourself from an explosive burst of self-defecation! Had I have felt the need to make chocolate soup, I would have just had to take a five foot stroll to my left, down a short flight of steps, and from there on out it was open breezeway towards the shitter. If I then encountered a long line of other diarrhea-afflicted concert-goers, well, that's a whole other problem.<br />
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Not that being forced to take a shit at a show/concert would ever be an issue with me, because it just doesn't come up anymore since I began taking precautions. Those of you who have been following my hi-jinks since Tales Of Perversion Zine Volume One know that I take special measures before going to shows to avoid from having to succumb to the horrors of taking a shit in a public place. I have a 'survival kit' of sorts that I swear by. I'm not really sure if this utility pack qualifies to be called a kit, having only two items in it, but nevertheless I could never see myself at a show without the following two items...</div>
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<b><u>Imodium A-D</u></b><br />
Thank God for Loperamide! This miraculous little opioid has saved my sickly off-white, moderately pimpled ass-cheeks from having to press against urine encrusted toilet seats at countless venues. I began taking Imodium as part of my pre-show ritual around the time I was 18 years old, and you would too if you were ever exposed to the horrors that are the bathrooms at Miami's CBGB doppelganger, Churchill's Pub. Shit, if you think you've seen some brutal water-closet nightmares, come take a peak at what's doing in Churchill's gag inducing latrines. I guarantee that you wouldn't even want to take a leak in there for fear that the viral bacteria that live inside of the porcelain pit of putrefaction could swim upstream like fecal salmon from the depths of the murky brown toilet water, up your urine stream and into your body via your urethra...<br />
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This night would be no different as far as pre-game is concerned. There was just no way that I was going to risk having to rock an oozing wall-puncher in one of these amphitheater port-o-potties where a few thousand drunks tried their very WORST at getting the stream locked dead center in the bowl.<br />
I know, I know, you're saying "<i>can't you just squat and not sit</i>?" The answer is NO! My abdominal cramps are soooooo fucking bad that they completely debilitate me to the point where I really need to sit from the fatigue of withstanding stomach pains the likes of which only Sigourney Weaver in the Alien movies could sympathize with!<br />
So, for this reason, I always make a pit stop at a gas-station and cop one of these little 2-packs for about two bucks. Believe me, it's worth it. Two of these bad boys will keep you shit free for at least 10 to 12 hours, no matter how many rancid, salmonella flavored Shish-kabobs you scarf down with a couple of rust-contaminated Bud Lights before the gig...<br />
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the other item, of course, is...<br />
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<b><u>Weed</u></b><br />
This one is a no-brainer... I mean, you don't go to <i>ANY</i> show without a substantial amount of drugs, let alone a Black Sabbath show, a band whom is clearly <b><i>THE</i></b> quintessential stoner band... Weed also ties in loosely to the Imodium in that it has calming effects on an upset stomach... Or so I've been told...<br />
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At the very least, if you cannot score a varied sampler pack reminiscent of Hunter Thompson's Vegas briefcase, you need a reasonable amount of Marijuana at your disposal. You want to make sure that you bring enough so that you can smoke consistently throughout the headliner's set. For Sabbath, I packed a chunky blunt, one extra long spliff and two joints; and quite honestly, it wasn't enough. It all got smoked within one hour. I had to go smokeless for about three songs! In retrospect, I could have smoked a pound during Sabbath's set, it wouldn't have made a difference. I was so exhilarated by them that the endless smoking of joints didn't slow me down a bit! It was like trying to kill an elephant with 4 thumbtacks. Tony Iommi cranking out the devil's fifth caused my brain to flood with a gushing release of "<i>diablomine</i>" that no other substances could take any considerable hold over me. I would light a joint off of the roach of another, back to back reefers, it was a show of total hemp hedonism. Audience members from my section would watch me with bewilderment from my total herb-lust, but to me, it was just business as usual. In retrospect, I should have tried to cop a windowpane of some even halfway decent acid! Had that been the case, I think I would have blown my psychedelic load all throughout the set; especially during the closing section of <i>Fairies Wear Boots</i> where Ozzy sings "Cause smoking and tripping is all that you do"...<br />
Still, the people sitting around me had clearly never seen anything resembling the likes of my Marijuana appetite. It's almost a funny <i>deja vu, </i>because I remembered an anecdote from my first show ever (coincidentally an amphitheater show as well-Cypress Hill, Rollins Band and the Beastie Boys)...<br />
It was a year before I had started doing drugs and was still rather sheltered and innocent and there were these dudes seated next to me (in the front row, incidentally!) who were smoking up a forest fire, and I just remember looking at these dudes like "oh my god, their totally getting high in front of everybody with no shame". Little did I know that I would one day be their stoner-king, who is not just exponentially more bold than those cats ever could have hoped to be (in terms of shameless public smoking and Marijuana advocacy), but who can also make short work of smoking them (or any challenger) under the bedrock.<br />
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It's good to be the king!!!</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rocking the sick fucking Paul Chain patch!!!</td></tr>
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My associate and I arrived just as opening act Andrew WK finished his set of whatever the fuck it was he was there for. I have never heard his particular brand of douchery, but my powers of divination tell me that I'd like to keep it that way. As we walked towards our section, posers and verifiable metal maniacs alike opened the up the way for us, instinctively knowing that two elder statesman of metal were coming through.<br />
<b>Who wouldn't open the way for yours truly, your LORD and FUCKING MASTER, the scourge of the right hand path known to you as Pig Latin the Infernal Ball Breaker?</b><br />
Alongside of me was Miami's very own Dirty Harry, a dude who may very well hold the secret of the missing link buried somewhere in his DNA helix. As if the mighty, mighty Dirty One's Bulldog/Gorilla hybrid of a face didn't terrify posers to death as is, his patched denim cut shown above was a sure indication that there was a decorated veteran of Satan's Special Forces coming through! Dirty Harry's war armor was unmatched and second to none among the regalia being flashed around by the capacity crowd. This thing was like the equivalent of General Colin Powell's Class A uniform jacket, only instead of being weighed down by a rainbow mosaic of award ribbons and rank insignia, it's covered in patchwork representing the creme of the crop as far as the finest, most discerning tastes in metal are concerned. The Midnight back-patch alone, in all of its obscure glory, was worthy of receiving sacrificial blood offerings. I don't really want to delve too much on my colleagues impeccable attire, but I do want to point out that only Generals in the Metal Militia wear Paul Chain patches... take note!<br />
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I, on the other hand, wasn't showing my metal dick size through snazzy couture. I went for a casual, non-dirt bag look which actually went horribly wrong, as I ended up looking more like a dirt-bag than I had intended, resembling a cross-pollination of Brian Johnson and Mike Damone from Ridgemont High, if they were spics. I was wearing some sick bell bottoms though, in true 70's acid-rock form... my homage to the quintessence of Sabbath's heyday...<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">If ever there were a dude who looked liked his balls stink, it's definitely Brian Johnson!</td></tr>
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Being spared the torturous ordeal of opener Andrew WK, time was on our side as we arrived at our section promptly after the sounding of the air raid horn that opens up War Pigs, Satan's clarion call for his little angels to flap their wings to. The wails from the siren ignited the crowd instantly, who went berserk from hearing Ozzy's demonic cackle come over the PA shortly. I was quick to remind myself that this is the single most important concert that I have ever/will ever attend. This is it! This was my first time seeing Sabbath, unfortunately so, and equally as woeful, this is also the last time they will tour. Certainly, <i style="font-weight: bold;">13 </i>will be the last time that they record together. Is this a speculation on my behalf? Maybe/hopefully so! But the tolling of the funeral bell at the end of the album seems to be the ominous omega to their 1969 alpha, giving unspoken closure to the saga. <br />
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The most important band in the history of heavy metal music (end of discussion) will more than likely ride off into the blackened sunset after this one. And so to not make the effort to go out and see them on this tour is just criminal, punishable by banishment from Rock and Roll forever. The very least that anyone who has ever made the <i>il cornuto </i>hand gesture can do is go out and pay your respects to the band that fathered everything and anything appealing about heavy music.<br />
Here you have a bunch of guys that have been around since '69, whom against the suggestions of the ill-conceived pen strokes from so-called rock critics produced the definitive groundwork for ALL heavy music and would become the go-to musical influence for any heavy rock/metal band that would come out for the next forty years. That's fucking brilliant... and worthy of all of you cheap fucks to buy a ticket and worship at the altar of metal... the true altar of metal... Black Fucking Sabbath!!!<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The devil's triumvirate... Fuck it, 3 out of 4 is not too shabby!</td></tr>
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Surely, some could argue that this was Sabbath Lite, a cruel tease, taking into the argument that the great Bill Ward wasn't on this record or tour. I for one had a field day ripping Brad Wilk a new A-hole when I found out that he was going to be the defacto sticks man for the album (especially after having found out that it could have been Cream's Ginger Baker instead!) This would only worsen after hearing the record, since I wasn't exactly choked up about his drum work on it, feeling that he lacked the blues/jazz foundation to mimic Bill Ward's swing. I think that in so many ways Wilk's technique did not fit into the album (and I do love this album, by the way). The prick paid no mind to his goddamn ride cymbal till about track 6, two cuts away from the end of the joint, and by then, it was just too late. <br />
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It's a damn shame that touring drummer Tommy Clufeto wasn't given the nod to be on the record. He definitely has the chops (anyone who watches him destroy "Rat Salad" on this tour can certainly agree.) I formulated the hypothesis that perhaps Bill Ward could not carry the band with the same bombast as Clufeto, who carries the rhythm section like a woolly, bearded metronome! (Whatever I had to tell myself to distract from an incomplete Sabbath!)<br />
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Ward after all has gotten a bit long in the tooth, and drumming requires a different kind of stamina than guitar or bass, perhaps more stamina than he can muster at this point in time with those gold bones, rusty and desperately needing Glucosamine. That's not a dis to Billy Ward, the guy has always been a brilliant drummer who quite frankly has seldom received due recognition, but Father Time is an unforgiving old bastard, and banging on drums for an hour and a half, night after night for a couple of months, well, that sounds like a job for a younger man. If you want to see just how mean this old prick Father Time can be, take a look at what's doing with Ozzy!<i> </i>Yikes!<br />
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I will say the following about this tour, and I do suppose that you can label this a "fair warning". Ozzy is tired! Old and tired! He's all beat up from years of LSD, Coke, Alcohol, the road, dirty women, more Coke, etc. If you're expecting him running around the stage like a madman, the way he's been carrying on until yesterday, than I suggest that you re-calibrate your expectations.<br />
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I love Ozzy, but I'm going to level with you, it's almost as if someone had either propped him up on the mic stand, or he was being worked with strings like a marionette from atop the stage. Seriously, it was almost like <b style="font-style: italic;">Weekend At Bernie's. </b>He still gives you his all, engaging the audience constantly with his charismatic, Sagittarius charm. However, the man that you will see fronting the band (not being able to sing in key mind you) in his black PJs is just a withered gray specter of his former Acid-War-Hippie self. Ozzy's deterioration is inevitable, since the man is no stranger to getting loaded, and this has taken it's inevitable, heavy toll.<br />
We are after all referring to a man who's wife had to hire an entourage just to make sure he doesn't so much as sip a beer, let alone smoke a doobie or snort a rail. The man literally has a 24 hour security detail around him that will not let him out of their sight for fear that he may sneak a buzz in somewhere, somehow. Now that's commitment to the burn-out ethos, and Ozzy shows all signs that he has already begun to pay the piper for his dedication to getting fucked up.<br />
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Still, it's Ozzy!!! Our incorrigible prince of darkness who can never do wrong by our black book! Quite honestly, he could have sat there in a rocking chair with a quilt covering his legs, and that still would have been fine by me. The motherfucker is an institution! The Metal Messiah!!!<br />
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The band sounded phenomenal! So good!</div>
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I seriously played air guitar to the entire set, something which I had never felt compelled to do at any show I've ever been to. My colleague and I were like two geeky teenagers fawning over their idols. We certainly did not expect to get blown away the way that we did, but they really were that good. They are going out with a bang, a number one record under the waste-band of their <i><b>Depends</b></i> adult under-garments and a successful tour to boot. You have to love it! You have to love that they came back from the dead to have their final say, and make a serious point while doing so, remaining as relevant as ever! <br />
<br />
As for myself, I was happy to see the mighty Sabbath before one of them became the jackpot in someone's death pool. My bucket list has become one item shorter. Having had the chance to see at least 75% of Black Sabbath playing at 175% efficacy was definitely an important event in the timeline of my regression/early mid-life crisis. It was a coming full circle, giving my personal <i>Ouroboros </i>something nice and juicy to suck on.<br />
I think back to being exposed to <i>Sabbath Bloody Sabbath</i> for the first time in seventh grade by a friend and being both freaked out by it's cover and also mesmerized by the rebellious overtone of that opening riff. I reminisce on having to lock myself in the bathroom of my home to listen to it with headphones on because had my puritanical mother have busted me with a record that sounded and looked like that (with that record cover) it meant getting my room ransacked whenever I stepped out, and any and all "questionable" items would end up in the iron jaws of a horrid beast with the words Miami Dade Waste Services written across it's iron flesh, leaving me with no other options but to go on mad shoplifting sprees to restore my collection (which resulted in some interesting petty larceny stories). I wonder how many kids nowadays are willing to endure such persecution in the name of metal! For that matter, I wonder how many of these assholes at this show would have lasted under that regiment! I lasted; and my karmic reward was being delivered unto me in the form of getting to blaze reefers while rocking out to the Masters.<br />
<br />
Oh, and as for the four joints, yeah, funny thing is that after the show ended, and the adrenaline levels started to even out, the THC in my system said "Here I am, motherfucker!" I must say, the after-buzz of four joints is very groovy. I had a hard time articulating words... it was great! Take that, tolerance levels!<br />
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Lord Frankhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15782661284097098722noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9053398593058477345.post-55730999638331164402013-08-02T17:06:00.000-07:002013-08-07T20:47:40.480-07:00Got Big Girls That Need Some Lovin’ Too?<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;">
<b><span style="font-family: "Arial Narrow","sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: DotumChe;">Get them on a plane to Miami pronto, muchachos!!!<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "Arial Narrow","sans-serif"; font-size: 9.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: DotumChe;">(We take really good care of them gals over here…)</span></b></div>
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<b><o:p></o:p></b><br />
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<b><span style="font-family: "Arial Narrow","sans-serif"; font-size: 9.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: DotumChe;"><br /></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "Arial Narrow","sans-serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: DotumChe;"><span style="font-size: large;">TALES
OF PERVERSION</span><o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<b><u><span style="font-family: "Arial Narrow","sans-serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: DotumChe;"><span style="font-size: large;">Worldwide
Travel Tours</span><o:p></o:p></span></u></b><br />
<b><u><span style="font-family: "Arial Narrow","sans-serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: DotumChe;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></u></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: 'Arial Narrow', sans-serif;">We are promoting our new winter special for all you sexy big girls who
are looking to get away to a paradise where you won’t be judged for plentiful,
meaty curves! <o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: 'Arial Narrow', sans-serif;">Come visit the beautiful, the sexy, and oh-so horny… <span style="font-size: x-small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "Arial Narrow","sans-serif"; font-size: 22.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: DotumChe;">MIAMI!!!<o:p></o:p></span></b><br />
<b><span style="font-family: "Arial Narrow","sans-serif"; font-size: 22.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: DotumChe;"><br /></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Arial Narrow', sans-serif;">OK, admittedly, Miami is a total smorgasbord of douche-baggery and
superficiality. Granted! Now having said that, Miami is a city where our animal
Latino lust has not been tainted by America/Hollywood’s imposed norms of what
constitutes beauty and sex appeal. The idiosyncrasy shared by most of us ‘<i>Horny Julios’</i> down here is that bigger
girls are A-OK! There ain’t nothing wrong with a little bit of baby fat! Come
see for yourselves this bizarre-o world where skinny broads get second billing
to a big ol’ Amazonian Whore-Horse (like a war-horse, but for fucking, not for
fighting.) <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: 'Arial Narrow', sans-serif;">Stop going to cheesy resorts where you feel self-conscious about
unveiling that robust body… Come to Miami, and let the rolls enjoy the rays as
by the water your fat ass lays! <span style="font-size: 9pt; font-weight: bold;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Arial Narrow', sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "Arial Narrow","sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: DotumChe;"><span style="font-size: large;">-Have you got ten/twenty extra pounds lodged around your ass and
thighs? </span><o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<b><i><span style="font-family: "Arial Narrow","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: DotumChe;">WE DON’T GIVE A
FUCK!!!! YOU GOIN’ DOWN!!!<o:p></o:p></span></i></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "Arial Narrow","sans-serif"; font-size: 9.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: DotumChe;">We like that down here! We call it Masa (dough), and we love to knead
our Masa in the Magic City!<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "Arial Narrow","sans-serif"; font-size: 9.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: DotumChe;"><br /></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "Arial Narrow","sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: DotumChe;">Winter Special! $1,000 per night!</span></b><b><span style="font-family: "Arial Narrow","sans-serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: DotumChe;"><o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "Arial Narrow","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: DotumChe;">Come stay at the Tales of Perversion Inn (my garage), and be taken to
a world of chubby pig lust!!!<o:p></o:p></span></b><br />
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Lord Frankhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15782661284097098722noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9053398593058477345.post-13342483397831423222013-07-28T18:24:00.000-07:002013-07-28T18:24:31.638-07:00FEAR AND LOATHING AT MY SHRINK'S OFFICE<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;">One
of the main occupational hazards of being the quintessential miserable prick that i am is
that the triggers are everywhere. Seriously! I can go from zero to surly in
zero seconds flat over the most random and insignificant shit; hence why I’m
sitting here in a head-shrink’s lobby awaiting my three o’clock, seeking solace
and sympathy (for a fee of about $150 an hour.)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;">So
here I am, flipping through the April 15, 2013 issue of TIME Magazine, minding
my own business, not knowing that I was about to be detonated. As I came upon the page which inspired this rant, I was sent into a tizzy.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;">I
don’t know what business this ass-bag Pete Wentz has doing in the pages of what I presumed
to be a publication dealing mostly with important issues. How is he even
relevant enough to be in there? This is TIME Magazine!!! Oh, now I remember why… He was plugging his new
book. Who even knew this cock-smoker could write? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;">I’m
going to print here the exact, verbatim quote from this fucking douche-lord in that issue of TIME that I was peeping, and you tell me if it’s
my over the top rage getting the best of me, or if this guy is the most
hate-enabling person ever to have a pair of skinny jeans press against his
man-gina … <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<b><i><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;">“For
me, if I hadn’t ever had a chance to hear an album like [Green Day’s] Dookie, I
don’t know where I would have ended up, heading down the path that I was on. If
anything, we want to be a band like that. Maybe the idea is we’re not trying to
save big-R rock ‘n’ roll because big-R rock ‘n’ roll is a thing. It’s, like,
leather jackets. But we do want to promote little-R rock ‘n’ roll, which is an
attitude, a perspective on life. We feel like little-R rock ‘n’ roll is 2
Chainz and Kanye West and Lena Dunham and people like that.”<o:p></o:p></span></i></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;">I’m
sorry but you’re going to have to give me a sec…. I really need to vent after
reading that again… Standby…<b style="font-size: 9pt;"><o:p></o:p></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;">First of all, where do I even
begin… You FUCKING ASSHOLE! Green Day’s<i> Dookie</i>?! Really?! That’s where this
pussy-clot got his point of reference from? One of the worst, most vaginal, irritating
fucking records ever recorded! Dude, at my high-school, myself and the few couple of
wolves that I ran with would terrorize anyone who scrawled GREEN DAY on
their Jansport book-bag! That record inspired an entire generation of pussy-asses to
become even more pussy-assed, and I'm no forensic sociologist, but I'll bet the contents of my scrotum sac that this <i>Dookie</i> record was one of the key ingredients in creating this current generation of teen-aged idiots...<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;">Also, I love it how he kind of implies that <i>Dookie</i> is some kind of life-changing record with that comment he made about the "path he was on"? What path was that Pete? Being the <i>maitre' d </i>at a West Hollywood glory-hole, you <i>desgraciado</i>...</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;">Second, I like how this
turd-burglar mentions his “band” in the same sentence with the hallowed term
Rock n’ Roll. YOU FUCKING CUNT! I don’t know what the fuck that ‘leather
jackets’ comment you made even means, but one thing is for sure you little
bitch, I’d take a leather jacket any day over skinny jeans, blouses,
scarves and those Emo-fag haircuts you've prescribed to since the day you signed a record deal! You fucking, goddamned human shit-stain…. I wish
someone could explain to this foreskin gobbler that anyone who has ever
been in cahoots with Ashlee fucking Simpson automatically loses all right to
even utter the words rock n’ roll, you snatch-face! </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;">Hey, were your wedding vows lip-synced too?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;">Perhaps Pete Wentz can explain to
me how 2 Chainz (who?) Kanye West, and the vomit-inducing Lena Dunham are
“little rock n’ roll”, let alone rock n’ roll at all! Kanye West is hardly rock
n’ roll, and the fact that this cunt would put his self in any kind of league
or figurative association with that jack-off Kanye is proof in itself of just how
un-rock n’ roll this piece of dick-snot is.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;">To make it even worse, as if
conjuring the name of Kanye West wasn’t bad enough, this twat-wash actually
goes further to name fucking Lena Dunham as another kind of rock n’ roll luminary. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"><b><i>ARE
YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME? LENA DUNHAM? </i></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;">What
the fuck has Lena Dunham done besides show her Nat-Geo, flap-jack tits
gratuitously on HBO. That little hack Lena Dunham is a silver-spooned cunt, the
daughter of some well-to-do bourgeoisie artist named Carrol Dunham, a dude who
has made a career of painting disturbingly reddened, open vaginas with
abnormally long pubes. Her TV show, well... sucks! It’s uninteresting, and owes it’s
critical success to the “controversy” revolving Dunham’s constant nudity on
screen. In reality, all that this snaggle-toothed little frump Dunham has done is
re-write <i>Sex and The City, </i>only she
swapped the characters out from boring, sexed-up, middle-aged broads to boring
hipsters. What the FUCK makes her rock
n’ roll? The only far reaching association she may have to R-n-R is that she’s
as hideous as Janis Joplin.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Lena Dunham? Give me a fucking break! <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;">As
for you, Captain Cocksucker Pete Wentz, your little quote just ruined my visit to the
shrink. I had come here focused, with a clear line of thoughts that I wanted to
delve into with my shrink. I wanted to tell him about my first erection, and
how my mother saw it and shamed me for it. I wanted to tell him about the
insights that this memory had given me into my female/mommy issues. Instead, I
will probably get into a one hour diatribe on how music is dead and how that is
a reflection of the state of our culture. This will more than likely be followed
by my prophesying on how it will only get worse from here, instead of
talking about the time that I saw my dad in the shower with his hideously
uncircumcised cock, looking like a fleshy Santa hat and then wondering if I was of a different race or species
than him because my pee-pee looked different than his. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Cambria, serif; font-size: x-large;">You sir, have always been, and will always be...</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;">As
for the shrink, he’ll sit through it all. I am, after all, by his own
admission, his favorite client. I believe him, too. I’m sure he gets bored of
seeing trophy wives 5 days a week who see a shrink for weight-loss purposes.
First World Problems!!!!</span></div>
Lord Frankhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15782661284097098722noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9053398593058477345.post-17928416200666012232013-03-27T09:16:00.002-07:002013-03-27T15:29:22.941-07:00DARKSIDE NYC... Pig Latin Interviews Make Way for Dread!<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">DARKSIDE NYC (for all of you whipper-snappers out there) were a Brooklyn, New York band that took its upstarts in the early '90s. It would be a chore to describe their music to those who don't know their incomparable style. Some may call it "metallic Hardcore" (barf!). Others may call it Metal influenced by Hardcore. To me, it's a mix of highly Celtic Frost/HellHammer influenced Metal with a Hardcore-like bounciness and a deep, dirty guitar tone that sounds like the earlier material was recorded inside of Satan's colon. Over the music, a lyrical content was barked out from Rich O' Brien's caustic throat that was more 'daily struggle' than it was 'dungeons and dragons'. It was probably the no-frills, real life content that earned them a closer association to hardcore than to Metal. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Regardless of the agreed upon description or categorization, this band had the stylistic chops to take it one step above (I think!) had they just have found a particular niche to fit into in the glorious, ideal-saturated '90s. However, they kept it strictly negative and hateful; perfect for miserable, angry pricks like me, but not exactly the outward musical/lyrical attitude that helped launch the next Victory Records teen idol back then. In essence, the very scene that gave DNYC any notoriety or recognition in the end was the source for their biggest disservice!</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">While Rich's wallet in retrospect may think he's an asshole, a big dumb Irish lummox, his balls and his conscience have no trouble facing him in the mirror each morning. You have to respect that! </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">DNYC is about to drop the first two installments in a four volume set of greatest misses, new disses and butterfly kisses! For all intents and purposes, this is really the first DARKSIDE NYC album, since all previous output has been of demo length and quality. Getting Rich O'Brien to agree to do this interview was harder than trying to achieve an erection after seeing Lena Dunham naked. Rich had been through the mill of stupid fanzine interviews, but I assured him that no fanzine Q and A could ever prepare him for a grilling on this set, ladies and germs. So now if you please, all the way from Brooklyn, New York please give a warm Tales Of Perversion Show welcome to the lovely...</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Rich O' Brien of Darkside NYC</span></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">So,
what do you do for a living when you're not weaving in and out of stretch Hum-V
limos dodging blowjob-willing groupies?</span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></b><span style="font-size: large;">I work in finance. Currently in the
process of taking the handful of classes I need to get the degree that's held
me back for so long. Believe it or not, the money I typically bring in from
music does NOT cover my mortgage or even the electric bill. My car has 125,000
plus miles on it and the empty bottles clank on sharp turns. </span><span style="font-size: xx-small; font-style: italic;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Wow,
a you’re a “one-percenter”! I gotta say, I'm floored, because I always figured
you to be a big meat-and-potatoes kind of guy, and not someone who may have
shared a free-base pipe at an office Christmas party with Bernie Madoff!"
Has the path to becoming a Wall Street maven been an ambition of yours that has
made way for dread</b>?</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"> <i>It is my
muthafuckin' dream to be a 1%er.</i></span><span style="font-size: large;"><i>The "devil" - in all of his
trickery - has designed so many methods of keeping me in economic chains. But I
WILL rise up and achieve fiscal success! As a longtime high-ranking member of
the Nation, I am already a 5%er. That makes just 4% more to go. Take that,
"whitey".</i></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">Do
you consider yourself to be an extraordinarily angry person? If so, why?</span></b> </div>
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<i><span style="font-size: large;">There are a
lot less things in my life now that make me "angry", but I can always
channel a good rage when I need to.</span><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">How
much of DARKSIDE NYC’s lyrical content is an actual reflection of your negative
feelings and how much of it is for the sake of the band’s concept?</span></b></div>
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<i><span style="font-size: large;">In other
words, how often do we "fake the funk"? Never! Everything I write
isn't necessarily autobiographical. Sometimes I kick out metaphors or let my
imagination run, but I never felt I had to go out of my way stick to a concept.
And that goes for being negative too.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></i><span style="font-size: large;"><b>Using
no more than six degrees of separation, can you connect yourself to Gary
Dell’Abate</b>?</span></div>
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<i><span style="font-size: large;">Baba Booey?</span></i><i><span style="font-size: large;">Isn't
there a guy from Death on the Stern show? I used to go fuck it up for Death
back in the day. (I don't think he was in the band back then though.)</span></i><i><span style="font-size: large;">Pete
Steele was also on the show once or twice, right? I'm sure I know someone else
who was on the show, but need to think on it. What about Evan Seinfeld. I bet
he was on.</span></i></div>
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<b><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-size: large;">Yes, Richard Christy is one of the
behind-the-scenes Stern guys and he was in DEATH for the ‘<i>Individual Thought Patterns’</i> album (or during that era as a touring
drummer, not sure which right now,) and was also in ICED EARTH. Evan (or should
I say “Spider Jonez”) was on there too with his ex-wife, just plugging and
promoting her Porn flicks away. I am glad that you mentioned Peter Steele (and
yes he was on the air with Stern once- it was fucking hilarious too.) I know
that just like myself, you are a big CARNIVORE fan and so I was wondering if
you were friendly enough with him to have attended his funeral. It’s just that
it would be nice to confirm if it were true that there was a separate burial
for Steele’s huge wang?</span></span></b><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i><span style="line-height: 115%;">The wake and funeral services were
very private, for reasons I can't really explain, the family preferred to keep
it away from fans and whatnot.</span></i> <i><span style="line-height: 115%;">Personally, I feel Peter would have
gotten a kick out of a couple hundred freaks and wackos singing "God Is
Dead" behind police barricades in Gerritsen Beach, Brooklyn. I knew Peter
a little bit. I went to support a family
friend who was very close, as well as pay my basic respects for a guy who gave
all of us old Brooklyn guys a real reason to form a band and just straight up
not give a fuck! Plus, it was walking distance from my house.</span></i> </span><i><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-size: large;">Regarding the wang, somehow they managed to get it all in there. I’m not
sure if they needed to customize anything! Maybe remove some of the padding!</span><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></i></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">DARKSIDE
NYC was active at THE time and THE place that most bands would jizz their
skinny jeans to be a part of. In other words, early 90's NYC was a breeding
ground of bands from all ends of the spectrum. Do you feel that DARKSIDE NYC's
non-participation in the Hardcore trends of the day (as far as sound and image
is concerned) is what ultimately caused you guys to be criminally overlooked?</span></b> </div>
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<i><span style="font-size: large;">We never
followed trends and never paid much attention to how we fit in. We did what we
felt like doing. People liked it or didn't. There are probably 100 reasons why
we may have been overlooked, we never signed with a label, never toured or
played big shows, only had like ten songs...People who like what we do and are
into digging up the illest obscure shit can usually find us.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">Will
both volumes be released simultaneously, or will there be a hiatus in between
record drops?</span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: large;"></span></b><i><span style="font-size: large;">OPTIMISM IS SELF-DECEPTION Volumes 1 and 2 were
recently mastered and will be pressed as soon as I can get to it on CD, cassette,
8-track, and Vinyl if there's a demand... Volumes 3 and 4 still need some
more vocals and mixing. All of the music for these records was basically done
in a single weekend. If I didn't have to work, I'd be in a studio 80 hours a
week. We'd have 200 albums!<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Clarify
this statement to be true or false… (</b><i>Bullet through the face</i><b>) is to (</b><i>50 Cent’s
slack-jawed delivery</i><b>) what (</b><i>throat surgery</i><b>) was to (</b><i>Rich O’Brien’s unmistakable
vocals</i><b>). In other words, do you feel your throat surgery in part gave you that
grimy sounding voice</b><i style="font-weight: bold;">?</i></span><i><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-size: large;">My voice
isn't naturally grimy. That's the kind of voice I always liked as a kid, so
that's how I do it. Over time it's become second nature, and I can go for hours
without getting hoarse. Back in 1991, I had two or three consecutive strep throat
infections and decided to get my tonsils taken out. I couldn't eat any food for
like a month. I'd smash multi-vitamins into Jell-o and ate boxes of that shit
cause it slid down nice. Anything that required swallowing was torture. Lost 30
pounds and looked like a starving addict, but then my voice slowly came back,
and I started jamming with Alan Blake. And so did the pounds ha ha<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<b style="font-size: x-large;">What
is your favorite episode of Tales From The Darkside?</b><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></div>
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<i><span style="font-size: large;">The one where
Grandpa came back from the dead and didn't realize he was dead freaked me out a
bunch when I was a kid. Homeboy blew his nose and it came off into the tissue
ha-ha-ha! Haven't seen that show since the early or mid 80s but I still remember
that creepy intro music with the fucked up trees.</span><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>My
favorite episode is the one where Jerry Stiller is some radio
"shock-jock." As the plot unraveled he slowly started morphing into a
demon. By the end of the episode, you figure out that his broadcasting booth is
down in hell where he is doomed to be a a demonic Don Imus rip-off for all
eternity! Yea, just a thought, but maybe you guys should do a jam with a
version of that creepy intro... The "Tales From The Darkside" intro!
Dopeness!</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Eh, as for the intro, too
obvious I think, ha ha! The Twilight Zone was always a favorite show too. Tales
From The Darkside was cool too, but they seemed to be doing a modern take on
Twilight Zone.</span><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<b><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-size: large;">Agreed, the ‘Tales from the
Darkside’ theme would be too obvious, but sometimes “too obvious” works! Rich,
baby, listen to me, your new agent… you do the ‘Tales from the Darkside’ intro
theme rip-off today, and you’ll be playing it live on Kimmel tomorrow.</span></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i><b><span style="line-height: 115%;"></span></b><span style="line-height: 115%;">Only if FEAR shows up and we all get
to destroy the green room.</span></i></span><b><span style="font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-size: large;">Richie, baby, as your agent I'll give
you the stars, but Lee Ving might be a little long in the tooth to trash
anything but his adult undergarments (Hi-yooooooooo!) Now, as your agent, let
me ask you this, how are you doing the tracking on ‘OPTIMISM’? In other words,
will it be a mish mash of old stuff with new in no particular sequence, or is
the song list set up to show how the sound has transitioned and progressed?</span></span><span style="font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;"> </span></b></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i><span style="line-height: 115%;">We re-recorded everything we ever did
and also wrote a bunch of new stuff.</span> </i></span><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i>Over the years, a couple of things that always annoyed me was
the degree in which our potential in writing new material was left untapped and
all we ever made were some low-budget demos. These songs deserve to be heard in
album-quality production, and now they are! People might think our new stuff is
a bit different, but the reason for that is we already had so many songs that
had a heavy Sabbath/Frost hardcore vibe. It was time to mix it up. I wanted
some more total fast shit, some chaos, some crust, more extreme metal shit.
Matt was on board 100%. We even did some melodic shit. Consider it a blueprint
for what we'll do next.</i></span><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: 10.0pt;"> ..</span><span style="font-size: large;">.Darkside NYC was given a chance to do
something for Roadrunner Records under the stipulation that Biohazard’s Billy
Graziadei would have produced it. You declined because you always had the
ambition of producing your first releases. Speaking honestly, do you sometimes
regret not submitting to those terms just to see what could have been? I mean,
I get the sense from you that you’re a regular guy and not a fame-seeker, but I
can’t help but think that the working-man in you doesn’t wonder how many
financial obligations could not have been eased by a “major” label record.</span></b> </div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i>Everyone knows no one gets rich of this kind of
music. You've got better odds playing Lotto than making it "big" in
the music industry. Truth is I wondered
about it a few times - mostly when I see huge festivals and all my friends are
co-headlining it ha ha! But I chose my path. No regrets. Billy and them had
good intentions, and I appreciated that, but I knew deep down that us signing
up at THAT moment would have been truly disastrous. We were not agreeing on too
many things as a band as it was. To start dealing with all the compromises with
managers and labels and producers, etc. would have been fuckin' miserable.
Maybe if we weren't so dysfunctional it would have been like the ultimate power
move, haha - but I don't regret staying underground at all. It's where I feel
comfortable. <b>OPTIMISM IS SELF-DECEPTION
- Vol. 1 & 2</b> and <b>3 & 4</b>
is our legacy. Doesn't even matter how many thousands of copies I don't sell to
random herbs.<b> </b>But I chose
my path. No regrets.</i></span><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>If
this scenario would repeat again today, do you think you would have made that
same decision</b>?</span><span style="font-size: 8.0pt;"> </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i>We're not dysfunctional
at all anymore. This band is super fuckin' productive now. There's no
arguments, no bullshit. we get shit done! Our biggest problem is we lack TIME.
Jobs, wives, kids, bills, etc. All that takes priority over hanging out and
band shit. Once we get a couple of things out, we're established. Then, if a
label wants to holler, it's cause they're into what we do. Not saying I WANT to
sign, but at least we'll have something to talk about. If they're looking for some hungry young kids
to stay on the road all the time, that ain't us. What I can offer is an
album-worth of material written and produced every week or 2. Don't believe me?
Put me in the fuckin' studio and let's see how many years it takes before I run
out of ideas. But in the meantime, putting out my own shit works for me. Our "debut album" took a while,
but I'm almost 100% satisfied with how everything came out. Besides, the fun
part is doing the cover and the layouts and deciding what pictures to put. Big
labels don't necessarily see you how you want to be seen. They have their own
ideas how to market bands, and don't mind if the band members don't like it.
That wouldn't sit well with me at all. </i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i>At the end of the day, I just want to
make my music my own way. A tiny room of 30 people who REALLY dig what I do
beats a stadium full of people jumping up and down just cause everybody else
is. I get the idea most people in bands sign because they are secretly longing
for the glory and the fame. There's
nothing wrong with that I guess, but it's not what drives me at all...<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">Darkside
of the moon. On PCP or LSD? </span></b></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i>DMT<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<b><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-size: large;">Having been a fly on the wall at late
80’s/early 90’s metal and hardcore shows at such venue spots as L’Amours and
the likes, I am sure you've seen some impressive action in the trenches.
Undeniably, anybody can just take a peek at any random Youtube footage of an
"extreme" music event and concur that 'going off' at shows is
laughable. Why do you think the ‘crowd feedback’ is not as fucking terrifying
as it once was? I mean, have you seen the seemingly choreographed line-dance
looking “douchery” of which “Moshing” consists of nowadays?</span></span><span style="font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;"> </span></b></div>
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<span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i>FLY ON THE WALL - 1985. Under-rated
LP!I might have been a fly on the wall in '86/87. By '88 I was catching dives
and throwin' some elbows. I fully realize now that the "1982 scene"
was totally hating on us and our violence and our metal infiltration, but at
the time I never gave it a second thought. I was having a blast. And as far as
I'm concerned, those shows were some legendary shit to be a part of. There was no "line-dancing" or fake
ninjas taking turns punching the air. You went in and tried not to fuckin' get
killed ha-ha-ha I've had teeth cracked, dozens of bloody noses, bruised ribs,
broke an arm, got a concussion. And it's all good; I administered a lot more
than I got. Those were the best shows! I never once thought of suing a club;
what the fuck is that? When I click on Youtube links for shows today, I see a
lot of bands playing to a handful of dweebs doing some kind of pathetic
"moves" ... half with their backpacks on? People skipping across the
stage and then politely dismounting, ha-ha-ha. Whatever happened to stage-divers?
These fuckers are floating like feathers!
But guess what - these kids don't give a shit about my judgment of their
scene. Plus, a bunch of 40-60(!!) year olds talking about the old days isn't
gonna keep a movement alive, is it? ha-ha.
You need the kids and the 20-25 year olds . At least the old school
bands are getting their respect now, cause for a while they kinda weren't.<o:p></o:p></i></span></span></div>
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<b><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-size: large;">So, why do you think that they dance
like fairies?</span></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i><b><span style="line-height: 115%;"></span></b><span style="line-height: 115%;">I
couldn't tell ya that, I'm more sociopath than sociologist!<o:p></o:p></span></i></span></div>
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<b><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-size: large;">Would you find it preferable that
kids just sit there and head-bang at any future DARKSIDE NYC shows?</span></span></b></div>
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<span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i>Well, I definitely prefer headbanging
to ballerina thugs. At this point, we're cool if a few people just step away
from the bar and watch us. Post an iPhone clip or something.<o:p></o:p></i></span></span></div>
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<b><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-size: large;">Tell me about the line-up of bums you
got playing in DARKSIDE NYC right now?</span></span></b></div>
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<span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i>I hate "musical resumes". It's like Linked In for
fuckin' bands! Hahaha! The official line-up for the album recordings was: Rich
- vocals, drums, piano pounding, percussion, assorted power tools and
electronic noise. Matt - guitars, backing vocals and electronic noise. Také -
bass,backing vocals. Joe - drums. Since the album, we became a 3-piece and I've
been handling double-duty. It's a pain in the ass live, but our studio jams are
killer! Very recently, we started playing with a drummer named Rick (who played
in one of my first bands). And Metal Mark is playing bass while Také travels
across Asia. Maybe you'll even see a show out of us this summer.</i></span><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<b><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-size: large;">DARKSIDE NYC’s sound was always very
heavily rooted in that old-school of thrash and metal lore, with just a touch
of hardcore thrown in. But I gather from your answer to an earlier question
that on the new joint you delve even deeper into a more “extreme” sound. What
new musical approaches have you incorporated into the more recent, unheard
material?</span></span></b></div>
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<span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span></span></div>
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<b><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-size: large;"></span></span></b><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i>The new
material has been heard quite a bit. I must have listened to these tracks 200
times a piece! HA. We went totally extreme on some of the newer songs: some
d-beat, some blast parts, some black metal. Then we went more "old school
punk rock" on other songs. A couple even have ridiculous melodies that no
one ever would have expected us to do. The older heavy songs are like the
anchor, or the center. We needed to mix it up; our set list was stale as fuck
and being slow and mid-tempo most of the time made us wanna fuck with some fast
shit. Also, having some songs that were 20 years old, we had fun writing a
bunch on the spot. Some of those went in very unexpected directions. Now we can
now play either all-metal shows or all-punk shows and actually fit a little
better on the bill just by swapping out a few songs. </i></span><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<b><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-size: large;">What do you mean by "written on
the spot"? How much of the material was "written on the spot"?<i> </i></span></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span></span></b></div>
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<span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i>Drums tracked with no previous
existing song arrangement. Guitars and bass layered on top. Whatever came out
is whatever came out. I used to tell Dean (the engineer) just hit 'record' and
I went off for the next 15 minutes. Ten songs were created. All made the cut.</i></span><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="line-height: 115%;">That’s fantastic! Did you actually throw
lyrics on those joints?</span></b></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i>Of course. I took home rough mixes and wrote to them though; I didn't
just record me yelling random shit.</i></span><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<b><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i>Asides from throwing all kinds of
styles together into one rusty spoon and cooking it up proper, you also used a
bunch of different types of needles. (Yikes, that metaphor grossed me the fuck
out). Tell us about the use of unconventional instruments on this thing. There are
some instruments used throughout the joint that aren’t exactly part of the core
elements used by Satan worshipping, junkie hippie bands such as yours!</i></span></span><span style="font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;"> </span></b></div>
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<span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i>Matt has a friend who's a professional
Latin percussionist. I kept talking about how I wanted to add conga to a part,
or bongos to a part. I was asking people I knew, but it wasn't panning out.
Finally Matt makes a call. The one and only Bopa King Carre shows up with cases
full of the most awesome drums and an open mind. He set up these timbales and
timbalitos with cowbells and proceeded to go to town on a bunch of our songs.
We ended up with more than we could use but ended up with way more than we
planned. The final result is sick. We also recorded me pounding on a piano with
my fists, swinging a circular saw. A bit of trumpet blowing. It's bizarre. Another
time, I got a guy playing crazy violin in the Times Square station to come to
the studio. We overdubbed some of the most evil sounds and blended it with
guitars on just certain parts. It ain't the Boston Pops.</i></span><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<b><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-size: large;">Well, as a grease-ball spic, I’m sure
that I will find the Latin percussion quite appealing. I will probably get up and start busting out Salsa spin moves instinctively! And as for all that
other craziness, the bi-polar, manic-depressive lunatic inside of me will eat
all of those shenanigans up! ...</span></span></b><br />
<b><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-size: large;">Rich, listen to me, not to sound like a broken
record but you gotta do the ‘Tales from the Darkside’ intro bust! Obvious,
Schmobvious! Go against your instincts on this!
After all, you did blow the Roadrunner deal! But, hey, that was before
my tenure, so ‘FORGIVEN/FORGOTTEN’ (pun intended).</span></span></b></div>
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<span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-size: large;">This is the muthafuckin' soundtrack to
bi-polar manic-depressives. I'll call the Harry Fox Agency and tell them that
you'll take care of the compulsory license.</span><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="line-height: 115%;">Listen, would now be the ideal time
to remind you of my 10% cut as agent</span></b><span style="line-height: 115%;">?</span></span><span style="font-size: 8.0pt; line-height: 115%;"> </span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 115%;"><i><span style="font-size: large;">Now's a great time! I'm in the red though. 10% of a
negative number means you gotta cut me a check, B.</span></i><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 115%;"><i><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="line-height: 115%;">What are your thoughts (if any) on
the upcoming Black Sabbath joint?</span></b> </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="line-height: 115%;"><i>Could it possibly be as awesome as Seventh Star or Headless
Cross or Tyr? Ha-ha-ha! I didn't think the 2 new songs on that live reunion CD a
few years ago were anything great.</i><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<b><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-size: large;">Who are you liking musically lately?
And keep in mind that it does not matter if it isn’t anything current. Anything
that you have been bumping a lot lately is fine.</span></span></b></div>
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<span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i>When it comes to metal punk and
hardcore, it's basically all the old shit I always dug. Priest - Sin After Sin
& Stained Class, Black Sabbath - Sabbath Bloody, Deep Purple - Machine
Head, Discharge - Why, Metal Church's 1st record, Prong - Force Fed are some of
the albums I threw on recently (that I didn't play on.) Otis Redding I dig a
whole bunch. There's something compelling about Amy Winehouse - the Dap Kings
drummer fuckin rules. Kinda reminds me of Al Jackson (Stax fame).Current music
and me don't mix too much</i></span></span><b><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i>.</i></span><span style="font-size: x-small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="line-height: 115%;">YOUPORN or the mental
“highlights reel”?</span></b> </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i>Married
17 years with 3 daughters… What on Earth are you talking about? Ha-ha! </i></span></span></div>
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<b><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-size: large;">I'm going to paint a scenario for you
because of curiosity over how you would handle a situation that I have found
myself in many times. Hypothetically speaking: you're at a show, for the sake
of argument let's just say it's at CBs just because I'm sure that the toilet
there is a fucking nightmare! You're at a show, at CBs, and suddenly, you begin
to feel the initial stomach quakes that foretell impending Gastro-Intestinal
Armageddon. In other words, you've got about 5 minutes to spare before a
literal shit-storm transorm the seat of your BVDs into the real DARKSIDE NYC!
What do you do? Do you bite the bullet and shit in that nasty, crusty
piss-infested throne room?</span></span></b></div>
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<span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i> I</i></span></span><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i> have many times,
my friend. Put it this way, no one coming down the stairs at CBGB ever wants to
make eye contact - or even acknowledge in any way - a guy hovering over a
seatless toilet, spraying the walls with no fuckin' door. It's like central
booking. No one even looks your way, ha-ha-ha. CB's used to have a pizzeria next
door. THAT bathroom was way better and had actual stalls with doors. I've never
done that when the place was crowded though. If that ever happened, I guess I
just went into the girl's bathroom and maybe get yelled at.</i></span><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<b><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-size: large;">Clearly, there is a difference in the
tone of this thing in comparison to other DNYC records (probably stemming from
the fact that the older was were recorded in "demo" quality ). Was it
always your intention of eventually cleaning up the sound DNYC's trademark
"recorded-in-a-East New York-waste-container" sound?<i> </i></span></span></b></div>
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<span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i>Hey, I've heard some real waste
container demos in my day. Our shit wasn't anywhere close to that. But look, I
always wanted to do a real record. Paying someone $400 to do a 6-song demo, or
sneaking in to do vocals at 3 in the morning cause a friend works the board in
a fancy studio, was the only way broke muthafuckas like us could have done it
back then. I dare you to find someone who can honestly say our new record isn't
as good as whatever we recorded 20 years ago ,ha!</i></span><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<b><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-size: large;">[<i>I think Rich mistook my
Waste-Container comparison as a put-down, instead of as a compliment as it was
intended. Oh well… Fuck ‘em, the ball-breaking Irish prick!</i>]<o:p></o:p></span></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-size: large;">Alright, Richie-boy, the word count on this fucking thing is out of hand… any last words to my unholy legion of followers, all of
whom would purchase this record and commence the destruction of mankind at the behest of their infernal Lord and
Master, Me?</span></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i><b><span style="line-height: 115%;"> </span></b><span style="line-height: 115%;">OPTIMISM IS SELF-DECEPTION - VOL. I & II will be
pressed as soon as I can get the funds together. Between the recording and
mastering, I'm into this thing for several thousand dollars already, so the fact that
it's been taking a while is more annoying to me than to anyone else. That I can
assure you! Revelation Records picked up a lot of the Everyday Dollars CD I put out, so
I imagine they'd be into distributing this one too. But either way, we'll have
a webstore when the time comes. If people snatch it up, and I can make my money
back, it'll mean I can finish Vol. III & IV that much quicker!<o:p></o:p></span></i></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-iIPPe7G_sbFVucL7h4uXECHRxhHCtdMieAZcS7Jg5Whg58jg4TCiSLBuTFcC9karLFT_5wjp4Spde86yOz83qjdZZGL-7KbY3n5sbktHIK-8rnKO_nwnoUufQOdgRVH97YbvRoONP3M/s1600/DarksideNYClogo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="207" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-iIPPe7G_sbFVucL7h4uXECHRxhHCtdMieAZcS7Jg5Whg58jg4TCiSLBuTFcC9karLFT_5wjp4Spde86yOz83qjdZZGL-7KbY3n5sbktHIK-8rnKO_nwnoUufQOdgRVH97YbvRoONP3M/s400/DarksideNYClogo.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i><a href="mailto:darksidenyc667@yahoo.com"><span style="line-height: 115%;">darksidenyc667@yahoo.com</span></a><span style="line-height: 115%;"><o:p></o:p></span></i></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 115%;"></span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 115%;"><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i><a href="mailto:satanwearssuspenders@yahoo.com" style="line-height: 115%;">satanwearssuspenders@yahoo.com</a></i></span></span></span></div>
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<br />Lord Frankhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15782661284097098722noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9053398593058477345.post-63557723107364038322013-03-18T15:27:00.000-07:002013-03-18T17:46:34.092-07:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOMkbvT_iupc0AyQ8gHcZzP_F5j6G3pWICFe3NykLWXCCTaHLCGnE4YvDVbYg1Zt8BB8yEn2zWR8WAlddx0jUge2YFrzVxovGnH3JCbmjukHcZoA1zcLtQHo53jcFto3AxSGK7wFyJzQ0/s1600/DarksideNYClogo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="207" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOMkbvT_iupc0AyQ8gHcZzP_F5j6G3pWICFe3NykLWXCCTaHLCGnE4YvDVbYg1Zt8BB8yEn2zWR8WAlddx0jUge2YFrzVxovGnH3JCbmjukHcZoA1zcLtQHo53jcFto3AxSGK7wFyJzQ0/s400/DarksideNYClogo.jpg" width="400" /></a> </div>
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<object class="BLOGGER-youtube-video" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0" data-thumbnail-src="http://img.youtube.com/vi/N4YlwDply_g/0.jpg" height="266" width="320"><param name="movie" value="http://youtube.googleapis.com/v/N4YlwDply_g&source=uds" /><param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF" /><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true" /><embed width="320" height="266" src="http://youtube.googleapis.com/v/N4YlwDply_g&source=uds" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true"></embed></object><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">DARKSIDE NYC interview coming soon you filthy whores!!! Be on the lookout for their upcoming double CD titled</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">"OPTIMISM IS SELF DECEPTION"</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Volumes 1 and 2</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">check them niggas at:</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">http://www.darksidenyc.com/</span></div>
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<br />Lord Frankhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15782661284097098722noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9053398593058477345.post-77951604860320713702013-03-08T17:51:00.000-08:002013-03-08T17:51:03.273-08:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidbwX9aHl-Uxjy8bV2_DK4WR0tcOleZb0_lmXfOzzYPzh6OLDoimZZMkLpKsVjHhfOFpsbDkN7V2xpGSJfM4XCMIa2oOQ4uPMWpKWvLjyPSRglCjN9O9ja4oCeMuu3_67eiMuror9t_6A/s1600/Baphomet2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidbwX9aHl-Uxjy8bV2_DK4WR0tcOleZb0_lmXfOzzYPzh6OLDoimZZMkLpKsVjHhfOFpsbDkN7V2xpGSJfM4XCMIa2oOQ4uPMWpKWvLjyPSRglCjN9O9ja4oCeMuu3_67eiMuror9t_6A/s400/Baphomet2.jpg" width="370" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-large;">Congratulations are in order to</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-large;"> TALES OF PERVERSION ZINE</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-large;">Issues # 3 and #4</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Miami's legendary Bible of Obsessive Repulsive Disorder receives more accolades from DECIBEL Magazine!!!</i></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaqwMwRFsJALc0eSUAjBebPgJ85Cjz6Ryae7XGuFwqEce8ZVHK0JhfJKLQ4PqzHS5jFDHgwmwJZavhhBLppt5m5Bn8KuCy_PMDZC1y6Aejzjo7_YWExFFc6IVEOpiolbydY_6CZKyi7A4/s1600/tales4cover.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="340" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaqwMwRFsJALc0eSUAjBebPgJ85Cjz6Ryae7XGuFwqEce8ZVHK0JhfJKLQ4PqzHS5jFDHgwmwJZavhhBLppt5m5Bn8KuCy_PMDZC1y6Aejzjo7_YWExFFc6IVEOpiolbydY_6CZKyi7A4/s400/tales4cover.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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Okay... Seriously, what the fuck is going on? This is the second time that Decibel reviews one of my Zines and I can seemingly do no wrong by them. To read their highly favorable review of my <b><i>M</i></b><i><b>isanthropaganda </b></i>(copyright), one might think that I had naked pictures of Kevin Stewart Panko from Decibel Magazine engaged in an all out fuck-fest with a couple of farm animals and a Romanian transsexual! As far as this highly credible source of music journalism is concerned... they like me...they really like me!!! And the feeling is mutual! </div>
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Decibel Magazine is the shit, and I'm not just returning the ego stroke! </div>
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Anyways, here is the verbatim joint review of Tales Issues number 3 and 4 by my favorite metal Canuck, zine connoisseur Kevin Stewart Panko from his 'ZINE POLICE' column...</div>
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Posted on: Thursday, February 28th, 2013<o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-fareast; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><i><b>"And
last, but certainly not least comes Tales of Perversion #3 & #4. To say
that this is a ‘zine is true in the sense that it includes words and pictures
printed on paper, but each issue comes across more and more like the result of
creator and head pervert – the charmingly monikered Pig Latin – cracking open
his deviant mind, of which he is intensely proud, and spilling it on the page
in a flurry of madness. The result is a cut-and-paste monstrosity that’s equal
measures repulsive and fucking awesomely entertaining, all depending on your
take and how much the 90s PC movement still registers and resonates with you.
Fake ads for fake record labels pushing fake bands like Afro-American black
metal band Negrophilia, all-gay hardcore band Fisted Youth and all-female
extreme metal bands like Brutal Uterus and Goatshoof, stories about PL’s first
handjob and working the graveyard shift in a porn shop, clinical breakdowns of
his favourite drugs, rants and rages against televised tattoo shops and sports.
Heck, there are even a few reviews. There’s a shitload of content and it’s definitely
something to leave hanging around on the coffee table when your mother-in-law
won’t take the hint and get the fuck out." </b></i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-fareast; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><i><b><br /></b></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-fareast; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">(go see for yourself, bitch ass nigga... check the link!)</span></div>
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http://www.decibelmagazine.com/blog/page/2/</div>
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Thanks guys. It means a lot! How about you guys give me a fucking column over there already and stop half-blowing me?!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgj92VHZkiYkxGItTi9XOYgV7Vj4kqJ9galNjO-Fvt4glW2cA0WRsqCgG56FRNhDpH_gloFY9X3XDZhHpdCrFXhKaXOtSIlEvtPLJyhyiTwOqzpPK24iu-091_pfGutY8O-6BU0o9E8F_M/s1600/Baphomet2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgj92VHZkiYkxGItTi9XOYgV7Vj4kqJ9galNjO-Fvt4glW2cA0WRsqCgG56FRNhDpH_gloFY9X3XDZhHpdCrFXhKaXOtSIlEvtPLJyhyiTwOqzpPK24iu-091_pfGutY8O-6BU0o9E8F_M/s400/Baphomet2.jpg" width="370" /></a></div>
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Lord Frankhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15782661284097098722noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9053398593058477345.post-77026043822156131522013-02-27T12:36:00.001-08:002013-03-01T05:07:50.388-08:00<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMBwL9lnz46ReyHjY7GxViPol_3w9WOdW0IyrE03GnZcl30E3UMM1H8veKB4LfG3GWQQsvdVMY9ERNY5BcfLv_ZINe8hwAKEL8IQrIC-bzYw6Dbntol-FYSdwVUN_3zjadtNVpm_a646E/s1600/girls.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="261" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMBwL9lnz46ReyHjY7GxViPol_3w9WOdW0IyrE03GnZcl30E3UMM1H8veKB4LfG3GWQQsvdVMY9ERNY5BcfLv_ZINe8hwAKEL8IQrIC-bzYw6Dbntol-FYSdwVUN_3zjadtNVpm_a646E/s400/girls.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Come on Lena... Your knees are never closed shut...</td></tr>
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<u><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-large;"><b>Lena Dunham and the horrors of a husband living in a single TV household</b></span></u></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Some of the most important life lessons that I have learned have come through my marriage, now more than halfway to our Tin celebration. My wife has done a magnificent job of domesticating your once savage Lord and Master; I'm not sure if that's a testament to the power of her feminine wiles or an indictment against my conquered manhood. Among these important life lessons, I have been taught the value of sharing by my beloved, particularly as the lesson applies to the use of our singular household television. Over here at 'Casa de Perversions', sharing a set basically means the wife watches whatever the fuck she wants! So naturally in the fine, long tradition of defeated, downtrodden husbands, I have been forced to assimilate the ways of my emotional/sexual colonizer. How have I been able to do that you ask? Well, you just have to look for the testosterone lining to the estrogen cloud. 75% percent of the time, this is achieved because of a hot chick. For example, the wife loves AMERICA'S NEXT TOP MODEL. The downside there is that I have to sit through an hour of nutty broads that are completely delusional in thinking that posing for a snapshot is important social work as well as it is a physically and emotionally draining profession. The upside is that Tyra Banks is a hot piece of ass and you get to see her here and there in different outfits throughout the show, so you just teach yourself to look forward to those segments and that helps you get by. See where I'm going with this? I've learned to do the same with PROJECT RUNWAY (with Heidi Klum, and her incomparable legs) and TOP CHEF (with Padma Laksmi who is extremely underrated as a hot chick.)</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"> (When she tunes in to any of the Real Housewives, well, that's when I rely on earphones and the internet cause there's just nothing there to fluff your pillow to!)</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">For the most part, I've been pretty tolerant of my domestic oppressor. Even when she started watching season 1 of the HBO series GIRLS, created, written by and starring </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">new found media pseudo-darling Lena Dunham.</span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">This show was a tough sell for me even after my systematic domestication because after an episode or two I quickly came to the conclusion that the hot chick count was nil on this thing. Well, Allison Williams is a good looking broad, but more on her later. I was going to have to learn to like the content... or else! Some of it was OK I guess. The plot had some hook to it, mainly due to extremely awkward and somewhat disturbing sexual situations and commentary. But still, the irritating characters and the seemingly intentional portrayal of hipsters being hipsters in a hipster world dealing with hipster problems in a hipster's perspective remained the underlying subtext for me and so the season one finale was followed by a sigh of relief from my afflicted psyche.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I kind of didn't figure there would be a season two. And here we are, halfway through the sophomore effort, and in the name of my testicles, I'm putting my fucking foot down! I mean... What The Fuck already?! This show is lowering my sperm count by the millions with every single viewing and I've had enough. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">There is no visible effort in this show's writing to even give the likeness of a plot. It's basically just become Lena Dunham's vehicle for her to self indulge her fantasies of being this hipster avatar that'll fill the gap that wasn't left by that broad from Sex and the City. You know the one. The one who is often on the receiving end of equine oriented insults. </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Sadly, I hate to admit that the difference is Sex and The City was a lot less vapid, though the premise is not-that-loosely similar (a female writer, sleeping around a New York burrow, etc.) Lena </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">basically just writes herself into a different sex scene every week with just some random dude, under believable circumstances or not. In last week's episode, she randomly meets some handsome, mid 40's Doctor who is recently separated from his wife, and bangs him. And wait, here's the insult to injured intellect, he asks her to stay the morning after, and bangs her again... like, while completely sober! Really? I mean, a halfway decent looking MD can find a suitable and aesthetically pleasing immediate replacement to lick his wounds with. Am I supposed to believe that this scenario is even plausible, with her less-than-appetizing self portrayal on that show. I mean, she isn't even trying to be cute. And all of you femi-Nazis can take out your ovary cramps on that last statement all you want, but the beauty of women is beauty in and of itself, and so if you think you're an uber-feminist by "Uglying it Down" than you're clearly out of your mind. And believe you me, I'm no fucking Adonis, but then again I'm not on TV either. But if I was on TV, I'm certainly not going to get naked on TV because I'm gross, and people don't need to see that. Since Lena Dunham looks just like I do when she gets naked, then people shouldn't have to see that either. And honestly, that isn't even an issue. Come on everybody, three cheers for Lena Dunham's self-confidence and free spirit! If she is comfortable in her sub-par nude figure, I say "<i>salud"; </i>but last time I checked GIRLS isn't a fantasy themed show, so don't rub salt in my lacerated intelligence by convincing me that a broad like her can bang handsome middle-aged doctors off of the street. <i> </i> </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Of course, in these times of supreme political correctness one is not to make such "mean" comments about those who put themselves in the spotlight and purposely want to become lightning rods of discussion. Even the poster child of free speech Howard Stern had to retract his statements like Sal Gobernale's foreskin. The King of All Media made some very funny observations based on some of the episodes in season one which he had seen, which were later snow-balled out of context against his favor by Perez Hilton (a "man" who is no stranger to a good snow-balling. yucky!) into a media firestorm that ended in not only the aforementioned retraction/non-apology on air by Stern to Lena Dunham, but also by him uncharacteristically putting a gag order on the topic of Lena Dunham even being mentioned on either of his two satellite radio channels. I was shocked when I called in to the Abe Kanaan radio show show one week ago to comment on how sexually nauseating Lena Dunham is, and the shows producer hung up on me promptly after telling me that Howard himself didn't want anybody on the channels stirring that pot. The arch-nemesis of censorship himself, resorting to censorship? Say it ain't so! I can't, so I won't.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Am I rambling? I just have to touch a couple of points but really don't want to dedicate a big word count to the topic of Lena Dunham, since she obviously doesn't want to dedicate an effort to entertain me or the rest of her viewers. I'm not fixating strictly on Lena, all of the other characters are abhorrent. I mean, the British bird is decent looking but she's a real pig on the show, and as soon as you pull a free-spirit nomad type character out of your ass I head for the hills. Having known to many of these free-spirits throughout my life, I have personal experience and can attest to how fucking annoying chicks like that really are. Then there's the broad with the long face and the weird name who talks too much. Gentlemen, are we all on the same page about women who talk way too much? Which brings me to Allison Williams. The only oasis of feminine charm comes via her loathsome, bitchy character whom two seasons deep into the game has yet to have shown a half of a tit. Lena Dunham is flashing those flap jacks around and that dumpy ass of hers like gang-buster and this kind-of-hot chick is wearing more clothes during her sex scenes than that broad on Amish Mafia. To this, the Femi-Nazi SS would make the argument that women are not for the purpose of entertaining men yadda yadda yadda to which I agree. But when you write a TV show, which is strictly for the purposes of entertainment, then you should do just that... Entertain! You must provide a premise, a plot to entertain the women, and eye candy for the men. Otherwise, if you write a show on HBO just for women's interests because then that's being sexist in a way. You also can't have it both ways in that you can't do a show and not provide neither substance nor prime meats and not expect to catch shit for it. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">And before I am accused of being a woman hater, let me just say that I would like to impale every single male actor that has earned a single SAG credit from this snore-fest. Is that what "men" are like in Williamsburg, Brooklyn? Pussy-Assed to the max? Not one identifiable male character, let alone a character that can be identified as male. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Look, what do I know? I'm no Hollywood Big-Shot with a 'brain for big deals'. Wait, a retraction if I may. As a person who was raised in front of a TV set, I know more than the Hollywood Big-Shot, I know entertainment, and GIRLS just can't deliver that. The content is not there, and you won't get away with another "show about nothing" on the backs of this cast of characters, or lack thereof. I wonder how long her 15 seconds will last. Hopefully not much longer, because so help me if the little Mrs. makes me sit through a third season, let's just say that I may become a danger to myself. As it is, every Monday morning as I shave before work, I catch a flashback of the previous night's episode and sort of just pause around my jugular vein with the razor and just stare into the mirror... contemplating.</span></div>
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Lord Frankhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15782661284097098722noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9053398593058477345.post-57772055466212645512013-02-20T14:59:00.004-08:002013-02-20T15:01:36.245-08:00<br />
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 28.0pt;">Are you depressed? Do you feel hopeless?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">When depression strikes, it can
render you useless, in a state where you may feel that suicide is the only way
out.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">We here at the TALES OF PERVERSION
suicide hotline want you to know that there is someone out there ready to hear
you out and talk you through this rough moment</span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">.</span><span style="font-size: small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRRx2U0ulDw1uPyL77ytR6J4H-uqWpvZH6dOju07CDFX_QXrJNrsVSRofUPzVSYirFlTFYb-OUB5SyIxb6NLfYLx-c7CrvMbAr0Imj-a0WdmH9DYLVgRVDQZX_J7AXuRdI9Dq7QoL9pAg/s1600/suicidehotline3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="204" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRRx2U0ulDw1uPyL77ytR6J4H-uqWpvZH6dOju07CDFX_QXrJNrsVSRofUPzVSYirFlTFYb-OUB5SyIxb6NLfYLx-c7CrvMbAr0Imj-a0WdmH9DYLVgRVDQZX_J7AXuRdI9Dq7QoL9pAg/s320/suicidehotline3.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 18pt;">Just call:</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: large; mso-no-proof: yes;">1-(800)-DIRTNAP<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">We’ve all been there before, with
the gun at your temple, or the razor at your wrist, but fear has kept you from
going off into the unknown. Here at the TALES suicide hotline, we can give you
that added push you need to make abstract art on your bedroom walls with your
brains.</span><span style="font-size: x-small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxjNg19l4YLrW9npfkZNS1XTdj9hrKk714qHfCBEoEbXgRKQzY_aQKHzbJEifu0kQF3bT9EgF5s8Cgcl2XROoyIRL-BWxxrioLdzrJoOoYWSRVEH3DFHjEkDq_hyzS6RyLdWZH3mwsD1s/s1600/suicidehotline.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxjNg19l4YLrW9npfkZNS1XTdj9hrKk714qHfCBEoEbXgRKQzY_aQKHzbJEifu0kQF3bT9EgF5s8Cgcl2XROoyIRL-BWxxrioLdzrJoOoYWSRVEH3DFHjEkDq_hyzS6RyLdWZH3mwsD1s/s1600/suicidehotline.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">Running out of ideas on how to
snuff it? No resources? Not to worry! Our trained phone counselors can provide
over 120 different ways to off yourself using common household items.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjx-sTRSAxkEM48R8ITylW9rJ45h3JIlFKZM4ojmF3uFyk4JJvT5E-2CkS6pCqFuElqVDVj4EEVfqdAi28w8BgpgdaeETMyDbK_2Hly1rUBDRF7ZxjCIkH7-TF3NlP1Ed3qVavKtzgfkYI/s1600/suicidehotline4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjx-sTRSAxkEM48R8ITylW9rJ45h3JIlFKZM4ojmF3uFyk4JJvT5E-2CkS6pCqFuElqVDVj4EEVfqdAi28w8BgpgdaeETMyDbK_2Hly1rUBDRF7ZxjCIkH7-TF3NlP1Ed3qVavKtzgfkYI/s320/suicidehotline4.jpg" width="218" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Call us up now! Come on, baby, Don’t fear the
Reaper! You’re not getting any younger, and surely this life doesn’t get any
better, so just take your final bow, and call us now…</span><span style="font-size: x-small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 24.0pt;">1-(800)-DIRTNAP<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br />Lord Frankhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15782661284097098722noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9053398593058477345.post-73938306869921642312013-01-30T14:41:00.001-08:002013-01-30T14:41:15.205-08:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />Lord Frankhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15782661284097098722noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9053398593058477345.post-82856731444557904422013-01-25T17:28:00.001-08:002013-01-25T17:28:15.945-08:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<b style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: xx-large;"><i>Coming Soon!!!!</i></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-large;">TALES OF PERVERSION FILMS</span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-large;">In association with<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-large;">21<sup>st</sup> CENTURY WOLF<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-large;">Presents a film destined to become a standout
in American Cinema…<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-large;">A film tour de force that’ll leave you
breathless...<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioosMsiPTm8jI8SNq5EBYHTwjNbPwHqKmaCg05jOaNTH50i4YmyGvhtD0HQHIzG2p7gVc7VbBos2lX_zGQgFcK0xQ6ZoMcCzWnvdF7gOuR_WpWR5SdWI-205e9I-_NHG_i3Nc1Fr0AG4w/s1600/2nuns1.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="291" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioosMsiPTm8jI8SNq5EBYHTwjNbPwHqKmaCg05jOaNTH50i4YmyGvhtD0HQHIzG2p7gVc7VbBos2lX_zGQgFcK0xQ6ZoMcCzWnvdF7gOuR_WpWR5SdWI-205e9I-_NHG_i3Nc1Fr0AG4w/s400/2nuns1.png" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">By day, they are the wives of Christ, hidden behind their veils
of deceit… But at the tolling of Hell’s midnight bell they become Sluts in
Satan’s service, delving far into the depths of depravity, where any host will
do in their unholiest of communions…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFObyKkvhGpIgjxYmhYj4mmi5Jk0l6QM2uukr8mvURQb0sKRRGBfpZwFyghBD4Ek21sCKnrsbGD2Xrg9bALqucZxxfmUW2r3Zup5mYHb0aaeIba2y0Hwwc3o_UcJGiswd-VtUMVY1Rnik/s1600/2nuns2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFObyKkvhGpIgjxYmhYj4mmi5Jk0l6QM2uukr8mvURQb0sKRRGBfpZwFyghBD4Ek21sCKnrsbGD2Xrg9bALqucZxxfmUW2r3Zup5mYHb0aaeIba2y0Hwwc3o_UcJGiswd-VtUMVY1Rnik/s400/2nuns2.jpg" width="333" /></a></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-large;">If you were horrified by 2
GIRLS 1 CUP, you will never be the same again after you see:</span></b><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 10.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4HuL1GZHU3kw7Re67-da-oP42Gqc2bYBWOZjRUetiNHMPqQeN7b5yFQ03JGje2wHJaumAUnKMTscff-Bw0PG8zuf6mOX6Xuy27iVdwJ8txFRZFtQ6psd5kICq9Nvd0HXxTMfrKZuOeyM/s1600/2nuns3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="340" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4HuL1GZHU3kw7Re67-da-oP42Gqc2bYBWOZjRUetiNHMPqQeN7b5yFQ03JGje2wHJaumAUnKMTscff-Bw0PG8zuf6mOX6Xuy27iVdwJ8txFRZFtQ6psd5kICq9Nvd0HXxTMfrKZuOeyM/s400/2nuns3.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-large;">You will never be able to
look at a crucifix in the same way again. Without a doubt, this is the vilest
depravity ever fathomed by human thought!<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-large;">Opening this December<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-large;">From<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-large;">TALES OF PERVERSION FILMS<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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Lord Frankhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15782661284097098722noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9053398593058477345.post-7079001774032926272013-01-25T13:59:00.005-08:002013-01-25T17:58:08.664-08:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRbZpT_1aI_EVy3jAN5Q7905khyphenhyphenuFnBObaGdBNBkbI0FeWkSCI9tVZmO6TEibhHB1IrPROD2gspgEHRwFa_F80lXwBX5wLdkIROlpj2Xjr3pKRKd-V_N55KEdKKpORzH_xrAvjzP_Ie_M/s1600/catfish.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRbZpT_1aI_EVy3jAN5Q7905khyphenhyphenuFnBObaGdBNBkbI0FeWkSCI9tVZmO6TEibhHB1IrPROD2gspgEHRwFa_F80lXwBX5wLdkIROlpj2Xjr3pKRKd-V_N55KEdKKpORzH_xrAvjzP_Ie_M/s400/catfish.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Any body seen this show on MTV? I saw the film, but haven't been following the show. I had my own true tale of being "Cat-fished" that I would like to share...</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Back in 2004 I worked for a major Cruise-Ship Line as a phone
agent. My job was to answer calls from representatives of Large Travel Agencies
whom would book up a block of cabin space aboard one of our ships at a
discounted rate and they in turn would create their "special summer
packages" and book the cabins at a mark up.... There was one agency based
out of California who's rep was notorious within the phone center for being
outrageous when she would call in. She was known for her hot voice, and for
making sexual innuendos constantly while conducting her business over the
phone. One day she called in, and it just so happened that her call was
directed to my extension for service. Sure enough, all of the rumors were true.
This chick was wild, and made all kinds of comments loaded with double
entendre. She started to flirt with me over the phone, telling me how hot she
thought I sounded, etc. From that point on, anytime she would call, she
requested to speak specifically with me, claiming that I've been handling some
special requests regarding her block of space and would rather that I stay on
the job to avoid confusion with another agent.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Next thing you know after that, she starts e-mailing me at
my corporate address (which she had access to for business purposes.) Her first
e-mail included "her" picture, which depicted a totally hot Mexican-type
chick (she said she was Mexican) that kind of looked like Kendra Jade and it
read "Here's my number, call me, we can talk without worrying about calls
being monitored for quality assurance."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">So I called the broad. Wouldn't you. So now, I'm on the
phone with this bitch, and she's painting a story to me about this crazy, glamorous, single California chick who is about to get a gig doing voice overs
for the main character in a new cartoon that got picked up by ADULT SWIM! I
didn't really care about any of that shit, but I would take her calls and
answer her texts because I thought she was this hot chick. After a couple of
weeks, our late night phone conversations took a turn towards the horny and we
started having all types of phone sex and dirty text messaging way before it was coined
as sexting.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">One day, I get a call from her on my personal cell phone and
she tells me that she's coming to Miami for a business trip with her boss and
will be staying at South Beach for 5 days, and during that time, we can bring our sexual fantasies to fruition at last. My dick became so engorged at the
thought that this hot chick, who was open to all inputs by the way, was practically
being delivered to me via Business Class for a 5 day Fuck Fest! I was so
consumed by the idea that this hot chick was coming to town and I was going to
rip that ass up for a week straight that I even started performing masturbatory
calisthenics for a whole month leading up to the trip. I would jerk off to
build endurance by holding out on blowing my load. I would do Kegel exercises
all day by clenching and releasing my asshole to strengthen my prostate... the
works...<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">We set up our rendezvous for the evening of her arrival here in Miami. We were supposed to meet at a bar in South Beach called the Blue Marlin
on Collins Avenue. So I got there a little bit early (big mistake) and ordered a
drink. After a couple of minutes, two big, sweaty, meaty paws which may or may not have been
human, let alone feminine, cover my eyes from behind as a tongue runs up my
ear. I swing around in my bar stool to find this fat, short, long nappy haired
hobbit of a woman standing before me with a look on her face saying "hey,
it is what it is sailor." It was her, looking like an overweight Elaine Benes' head was glued to Danny DeVito's body...</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"> I was livid, not so much with her as much as at myself for not screening this bitch a little better. I went based on the one
picture she e-mailed me and that was it. She explained how that was her sister's
photo and that she knew that she was wrong for not coming clean way before this
trip happened. She confessed that she isn't doing any voice over work for some cartoon
that doesn't even exist, and how she's the divorced mother of three kids. I
went off on her! I told her how it was disturbing that she had to lie like that
about how she looks, and about her life, and how she hides her children. She
took her tongue-lashing quietly and when I finally stopped screaming at her
long enough for her to get a word in edgewise, she said "Look, I
understand if you walk out right now and never speak to me again, believe me.
Let me at least pay your drink. Go ahead, just walk out and I'll settle
up!" </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">I said "OK, but I also want a blow job in my car!" <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">She obliged, blew me from the passenger seat of my Nissan Sentra that was parked in some piss infested South Beach parking garage. She swallowed my load, smiled politely and left... and I never spoke
or heard from her again. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">The End.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Well, What?! I drove all the way out to the beach and got a
drink out of it, might as well get one sucked out to!!!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br />Lord Frankhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15782661284097098722noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9053398593058477345.post-29954071673995082322013-01-23T18:20:00.000-08:002013-02-11T18:20:39.966-08:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6C4qeUKPjlBwwxDdQylwtFdiMu81E5SCnQyK331-H0Rm2Ll4ArK6ZDl39Z7uOTmzsPfSmKg0IDrHTHcEBLlJ_G0sfQR7szwuq3K6ntttsBTmsXEpUga4KUX-sVQrItwIbgoCb_GVJ4o8/s1600/tales-blog-pig+latin+-+Copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="288" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6C4qeUKPjlBwwxDdQylwtFdiMu81E5SCnQyK331-H0Rm2Ll4ArK6ZDl39Z7uOTmzsPfSmKg0IDrHTHcEBLlJ_G0sfQR7szwuq3K6ntttsBTmsXEpUga4KUX-sVQrItwIbgoCb_GVJ4o8/s400/tales-blog-pig+latin+-+Copy.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">OK kids, here we go, you’re Lord and Fucking Master is
back with another one of my infallible top 10 lists.<span style="font-size: x-small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<b><u><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><span style="font-size: large;">TOP 10 RECORDS TO FUCK TO</span><o:p></o:p></span></u></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b><u>10. Sade “<i>Love Deluxe</i>”</u></b><b> </b>Why number 10? Because it’s too obvious a choice to list any of her albums, on the count that the she's pretty much a staple of splack-jams! The beautiful, boner inspiring, Anglo-Nigerian Sade’s music has
long been responsible for a whole lot of exchanges of body fluids, so again, her
records are kind of the go-to choice for a foreplay-list, or a Get-On-All-Fours list. But regardless, no
list of this kind would be complete without her, and <i>Love Deluxe</i> is a classy, sexy album that’ll have most of you and
your squeeze’s body cavities filled with objects in a cinch. More suitable for lovemaking
than for dirty, sweaty pig-fucking, but not exclusively… <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b><u><br /></u></b></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b><u>9. Guns and Roses “<i>Appetite for Destruction</i>” </u></b>Forget about ‘<i>Sweet Child of Mine’</i>, this sleaze-fest is perfect for an all-out blood-lust orgy in the champagne room. Cuts like <i>‘It’s
So Easy’, ‘My Michelle’</i> and <i>‘Rocket
Queen’ have always proven themselves</i> perfectly gritty scores to set the mood for you and the 3<sup>rd</sup>
string girls from the BOOBY TRAP’s day shift to have a little private party and
combine Herpes strains. C-Section scars and bullet wounds galore!<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<b><u><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">8. The Sun Ra Arkestra
meets Salah Ragab in Egypt<o:p></o:p></span></u></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">When harpooning broads of a higher caliber, and playing a
Sade joint is too obvious a strategy, this little doozy is guaranteed mood
lubricant. The extraterrestrial, Avant-Garde genius Sun Ra descended from the most remote regions of outer space to team up with the leader of the Cairo Jazz Ensemble to bring you
this intergalactic mother-ship ride towards Planet Pleasure where panties, thongs,
and G-strings inevitably go into zero gravity. Sorry for the space pun, it was a little hacky.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b><u><br /></u></b></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b><u>7. Lush “<i>Spooky</i>”</u></b><b> </b>Dave Rojo is probably saying "Lush? You're sooo Alternative!" I discovered this record as a freshman in High School, as the band was fresh off of the first ever Lollapalooza, about a year before I had first tasted the delights of a woman’s sexual cookie jar. (Yea, I wasn't a sophomore until I was able to convince some poor girl into being naked with me... Go ahead, laugh.) This joint
(an early torchbearer for what we unfortunately now know as ‘<b><i>shoegaze</i></b>’ in some remote way) has this
ethereal quality throughout which reminds me of the unearthly feel of getting
laid. Miki Berenyi and Emma Anderson’s forest nymph-like vocals over
the jangly but textured guitars (and proper ambience) make
for an adequate and effective soundtrack <o:p></o:p></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKmHhkKqEJlKok1iJdztjm1CCKJbBeyfxGEasNoEBGChZ5LcVjIHhnndqwU-1GkXdd85f6W6Vytu5C6RmjDlT2IguyYw3lvUN-Xc7dvJ_L7GYsyN8bVTXwvpZgsZlV9_QclVC0Jeg-n3w/s1600/unholy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKmHhkKqEJlKok1iJdztjm1CCKJbBeyfxGEasNoEBGChZ5LcVjIHhnndqwU-1GkXdd85f6W6Vytu5C6RmjDlT2IguyYw3lvUN-Xc7dvJ_L7GYsyN8bVTXwvpZgsZlV9_QclVC0Jeg-n3w/s400/unholy.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<b style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><u>6. Samhain “<i>Unholy Passion</i>”</u></b><b style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> </b><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I already got into this back in TALES Zine Vol.2, so I won’t
get into it too much, but let me just remind you of the opening words to that
album: “</span><i style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Unholy passion, I feel for you,
this thing that hangs down my leg I feel for you</i><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">”. Enough said! By the way, get a load of that Brillo-like clump of hair pie on that Succubus! And by the way, I would just like to mention in passing that I don't think little Glen Danzig has anything that "hangs" down his leg! Typically, guys built like him can barely clear their zipper. His pubes might be longer than his cock! Anyways, if you're like me, you think evil is sexy, and if that's the case then this stroll down the dark alleys of morbid Punk is a delight. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b><u>5</u></b><u>. <b>Tricky “<i>Maxinquaye</i>”</b></u><b> </b>In my experimentation with trip-hop, I came across this
wonderfully odd record by the South African e-Music Svengali, Tricky. Here’s a
lyrical excerpt: “<i>Where there’s trust
there’ll be treats, and when we fuck we’ll hear beats</i>”. The beats on this
thing are clearly conceived when Tricky’s sleepy consciousness expands. And if
all “Ass-getting” attempts fail, then let me tell you from personal experience,
this is the perfect record for when you get that animal urge, mid
hallucinogenic experience, to masturbate. I did. And when I finally reached orgasm,
I saw such pretty colors in such peculiar shapes and patterns. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b><u>4. Led Zeppelin (any
of the first three albums</u></b><b>) </b>I mean, Come On! These
guys made a virtual career of banging groupies, allegedly, or at the very least they were wizards at casting that image. Some may argue that except for Bonzo, these chaps were actually quite mild-mannered and polite, like British people from Kubrick flicks. Zeppelin’s groove sound was really sexual to
begin with, and Robert Plant’s way-with-words descriptions of “how she shakes
that thing” are as good a testament as any to the power of merging the 3
pillars of our infernal faith, SEX, DRUGS AND ROCK AND ROLL! Bang your
girlfriend to <b>“<i>Since I’ve Been Loving You
Babe</i>”</b>, and then thank me later. That is probably one of the greatest Rock and Roll jams ever written. I wonder what he meant by “<i>Gonna make you burn, gonna make you sting</i>” in <b>"Whole Lotta Love"</b>?
To me, that sounds like the song’s muse may have needed a penicillin shot, or
two, especially after being part of these guys’ daisy chain of Vag... allegedly...<o:p></o:p></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b><u>3. Christian Death <i>“Only Theatre of Pain</i>”</u></b><b> </b>Back in the Samhain review, I told you that I have a hankering for
some Evil blended in to my fuck-time frolics. Well this bad boy is as good an
album as any for the theme music. Rozz William’s voice all throughout this
evil-as-fuck slab of macabre proto-pre-post-punk sounds as if he’s getting his
prostate massaged by Mephistopheles himself. And say what you will about his
dubious sexual pursuits, Rozz got himself plenty of pussy, probably twice as
much as the amount of dick that he got too… allegedly! If you’re nailing a Goth
broad and slip this thing in, be prepared for the explosion of vampire lust
that you will unleash. Just make sure that by banging with this thing playing
in the background that you don’t accidentally open a portal when Rozz starts
those weird backward-spoken verses! You know what Aleister used to always say about fucking, sex juices and their relation to ritual magick! A creepy LP, so don’t be alarmed if you go limp the first time you get your fuck on to this…<o:p></o:p></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b><u>2. Dead Meadow “<i>Shivering King and Others</i></u></b><b>” </b>Alright, you want to talk about a sexy-ass record? This
is some of the best stoner rock I’ve come across in my acute, recently acquired interest
in that scene. We are talking about some big, BIG riffs here with
fuzzier muff than a Ron Jeremy versus Vanessa Del Rio flick. (Talk about 'the fur will fly'.) Yet at the same time it incorporates
some beautiful melody throughout the joint with this quiet, watery kind of production that just takes you to a time and place before AIDS when boys can be boys,
girls can be girls, and getting it on with the black-lite on and the lava lamp
oozing was common fare. On a rainy day like this… give me a minute… (<i>2 minutes and 35 minutes later</i>): Yep, I know
what I’m telling you. Just banged out my wife to “<i>Golden Cloud</i>”, and it was epic. But here’s a better litmus test for
you: Listen to <b>“<i>Good Moanin</i>”</b>, and
imagine that you’re on an episode of That 70’s Show, and you’re playing the bad
boy rebel, locked in the back of his custom built, Hash-smoke filled '76 Chevy van
with an air-brushed scene on the outside panel of some Viking carrying some
Valkyrie with big tits up a snowy mountain with his pet Wolf trailing behind,
while a cosmically aware (and pleasantly damp) Mila Kunis is locked in there with you… Enjoy!<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<b><i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">And now, for the number one Fuck Album, drum roll, no, better
yet... let me get a motherfucking blast beat please…</span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 9pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></i></b><br />
<b><i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></i></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">The number 1 record to make sweet, sweet love to is:</span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b><u>Beherit “The Oath of
Black Blood”-</u></b><b> </b>For when you really
want to give a real serious diabolic Black Metal booty pounding…<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<b><i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">No, No, I’m just kidding! Can you imagine, though? That’d
be fucking brutal!<o:p></o:p></span></i></b></div>
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<b><i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Alright, I’ll stop fucking around…<o:p></o:p></span></i></b><br />
<b><i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></i></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Alright, do it again, Blast beat please…</span><o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
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<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">The number 1 album to
get some wang dang sweet poon tang to is:</span></b><br />
<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b><u>1. The Stooges “<i>Funhouse</i></u></b>” I have to be honest
about something. The first time I heard The Stooges, they fucked me all up.
Why? Because when I was 16, my punk-zine mentor 'Punk Seba' handed me some crazy VHS tape
that contained bestiality porn, and the opening scene was of some 70's chick
(with quintessentially dense pubic bush) getting head from Man’s Best Friend
while <i>“I Wanna Be Your Dog</i>” played in
the background. Yuck! She even blew his lipstick! Fucking Nauseating! Needless
to say, this was a traumatic experience.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">But many years and still even more LSD doses later,
after reaching a level of moral bankruptcy and acquiring new heights in sexual
aberration where I can find that kind of thing humorous if nothing else, I can
revisit the Stooges again without bias.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">If you hear Tony Bourdain tell it, when his possible
favorite record of all time came out, you were an outcast for digging it. Don’t
know why that would be, but this thing is as gritty and primal as rock and roll could have
gotten back then. And the wild, nihilistic presence of the band’s legendary
front-man Iggy Pop exuded sexuality, in his weird, gender bending, and <i>Heroin-chic</i> kind of way. But just listen
to the record when in good company; cook up a couple of spoons of your best
China White, spike up, and ride your silky cloud to pleasure land.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">There’s just such an authentic, unbridled savagery to the
Stooges! They have that good old-American, “banging slutty bartenders” vibe to
them. “<i>TV Eye</i>” I think possesses this
quality the most on this one. Listen to “<i>Dirt</i>”,
and sink into that post-sex Heroin nod. And in case you have the sexual prowess
to last till the last song on the record <i>“LA
Blues</i>”, than you should enjoy one hell of a money-shot, to one hell of a
sexy jam. A big payoff for everyone involved!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Congratulations Iggy, you and the boys took the coveted
number one slot!<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">By the way, as for the bestiality VHS, you don't know what Bukkake really is till you've seen two broads take a horse's load. Yikes!....</span><br />
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Lord Frankhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15782661284097098722noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9053398593058477345.post-29761346713022918562013-01-22T16:16:00.001-08:002013-01-23T18:24:41.606-08:00<br />
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<span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New'; font-size: 9pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-large;"> </span></span><b><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-large;">Congratulations</span></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-large;">TALES OF PERVERSION Volume 2!!!</span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I sent a copy of Tales of Perversion Fanzine Volume 2 to <b>Decibel Magazine</b> early last year to be reviewed by Kevin Stewart Panko in his column <b><i>ZINE POLICE</i></b>, and I’m pleased to say that the rag received a rave review. So, finally, we can add another z-list celebrity endorsement to the list. That makes it, um, let me see, oh yea, two. The first of course is that of our favorite Reality TV sperm storage tank, <b><i>Robear </i></b>of tattoo reality mind-fuck NY Ink.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">So, here it is, another rave review, and this one is from a far more credible nobody. So without any further delay, here is what DECIBEL Magazine had to say about your favorite Zine, Tales of Perversion, Satan’s used toilet paper... </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<b><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">“<i>engaging, and F’in hilarious</i>”</span></b><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"> </span><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 9pt;">Kevin Stewart Panko (May 2012 issue)</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8jLE1GvJ-rgFvZQ5OTdzIsx8JxHV2psjpTzXrarCIp0TRlhbpt2EnWyhebKTswgNd6y5E0ivJH3l076u2IkMe8CcJuyY_SzPTs29PP9xdAnHNYg_32ESGj10CK2d1-_i9mxq9lBH6iO0/s1600/blog1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8jLE1GvJ-rgFvZQ5OTdzIsx8JxHV2psjpTzXrarCIp0TRlhbpt2EnWyhebKTswgNd6y5E0ivJH3l076u2IkMe8CcJuyY_SzPTs29PP9xdAnHNYg_32ESGj10CK2d1-_i9mxq9lBH6iO0/s400/blog1.jpg" width="298" /></a></div>
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Lord Frankhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15782661284097098722noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9053398593058477345.post-48495208779376056982013-01-16T06:41:00.001-08:002013-01-16T06:41:50.415-08:00<br />
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<b><span style="font-family: "Arial Narrow","sans-serif"; font-size: 22.0pt;">And now it’s
time for… <o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "Arial Narrow","sans-serif"; font-size: 22.0pt;">TALES OF
PERVERSION Song Parodies!!!<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">I’m
sitting here in the Dade County Courthouse, in a Jury Selection Room, bored out
of my skull! In my jittery morning haze of Extra Bold Sumatran coffee and
resinous Marijuana I just started bugging out and the result was the following quintessentially
mega-stupid Pig Latin renditions of your favorite hardcore hits! Enjoy, whores!!!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZOLohsfDkwqiZxgYPu0xejYjd8TtJuehnLBlYQVLFuPA7fEGkLSGlTMgKMThErF-CnQcXucvCW5H7WaeXLwFFZTdakF34bDzeBiPyjk_jLC1D7ibodcOQgPcJJQP1E09lhluuGgxICXw/s1600/bad+strains+-+Copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZOLohsfDkwqiZxgYPu0xejYjd8TtJuehnLBlYQVLFuPA7fEGkLSGlTMgKMThErF-CnQcXucvCW5H7WaeXLwFFZTdakF34bDzeBiPyjk_jLC1D7ibodcOQgPcJJQP1E09lhluuGgxICXw/s400/bad+strains+-+Copy.jpg" width="356" /></a></div>
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<b><u><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Pig Latin<o:p></o:p></span></span></u></b></div>
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<b><u><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">“Crammed with V.D.”</span><span style="font-size: medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></u></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 9.0pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">(sung to the tune of Bad Brains “Banned in
D.C.”)<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 9.0pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">Crammed with V.D. with a million penicillin
shots to go<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 9.0pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">Got nothing left to do but sit and watch my
genital warts grow<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 9.0pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">You’d rather not fuck me…<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 9.0pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">Why? Cause I’m crammed with V.D….
V.D.!...V.D.!....<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 9.0pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">Fuck! When I piss it stings<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 9.0pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">Like lightning shooting from my open-ing<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 9.0pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">What is this burning, oozing yellow crap?<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 9.0pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">My tip looks like a crusty mustard bottle cap<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 9.0pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">You should avoid contact with me…<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 9.0pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">Why? Cause I’m crammed with V.D….
V.D.!...V.D.!....<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 9.0pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">(creepy-crawly breakdown skank part)<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 9.0pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">And if you bang me with no glove, it’s the
wrong mind, you’ll catch the strong kind<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 9.0pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">If there’s movement in my pubic hair, it’s King
crabs, but I won’t care<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 9.0pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">Oh no, you can’t afford, to let my sword,
drip on your sore<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 9.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-fareast; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">My,
oh my, my boxers stained, from The Clap, a potent strain</span></b><br />
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Lord Frankhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15782661284097098722noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9053398593058477345.post-58952931439700850942013-01-13T16:30:00.001-08:002013-01-13T16:30:52.664-08:00<br />
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<b><i><u><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">And now, an angry old man brings you a Show Review of a show
I didn’t even go to… and I’m really going to delve…</span><span style="font-family: Andalus, serif; font-size: 10pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></u></i></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I won’t even lie to you and tell you that I wasn’t initially
hyped up when I first heard about this. The odd and random news that <b>MEAN SEASON</b> was playing a Miami gig made me very excited, embarrassingly. Back in
the 90’s, I was so into them. I guess what drew me in to them was that they
were a bit darker (a lot darker, actually) than the rest of the Straight Edge
hit parade of those times, and despite Aaron Kelly’s horrible vocals, they are
still one of my record collection’s mainstays. Also, they were among the first
true pioneers of that evil/metallic hardcore sound, but with an emotive quality to it.
They were always referred to by my divine self as an “Emo SLAYER”, and I think that is a pretty fair descriptive of what they do.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">But after finding out that it was part of a festival, as the
show date came inching closer, all desire to grace the unworthy Miami Hardcore
scene with my unearthly presence and ethereal Luciferian beauty dissipated from
my black soul. Why? Because using my Satan given powers of clairvoyance, (and aided
by the predictability of geeky Hardcore kids) I foresaw the douchery that would
ensue at this 3 day convention for former Hardcore Teen Heart-Throbs facing
Mid-Life Crisis. I knew that this festival was a “CALLING ALL CARS” for the
scene police. Here’s my prophetic review of a show I never even went to…<o:p></o:p></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>STRUNG OUT</b> played the Friday show (I guess),
to which I riddle myself this… </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Who would pay money to see Strung Out play? </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">It
should be the other way around! Strung Out should’ve paid the crowd that stood
there (if anyone did) and listened to their very vaginal take on punk rock. Don’t recognize any
other name on the Friday night line-up according to the flyer, except for opening local act ASKULTURA.
I’m sure they stayed well within the comfort zone of their particularly
nauseating brand of hipster friendly Ska music. (<i>Dry-heave</i>) <o:p></o:p></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Saturday night, here come the bigger guns now…</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Local Straight Edge Icon turned Big-Shot show promoter Mark
“<b><i>Clap
and Kick</i></b>” Pollack tried pulling a hat trick by finding <b>DAMNATION A.D</b>., attempting to yank them
out from obscurity for this shindig. They were not really a band that I explored
too much in their heyday, but I know that lots of my friends thought they were
the bee’s knees back in the day. They were probably the best band on the
Saturday card, had they not have cancelled according to one of my many show-biz moles... those fucks. Talk about a lack of
professionalism. I can imagine and angry Mark Pollack, floating on his Aqua-Lounger in his swimming pool, screaming </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">“YOU'LL NEVER WORK IN THIS TOWN AGAIN, I’M GOING TO RUN YOU OUT OF THE BUSINESS” </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">into the receiver of his waterproof, cordless Bat- Phone. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Ah, another special treat was planned for that night that would appeal to
all would be (or has-been) Straight Edge aficionados, a spoken word by the
biggest asshole PC Thug to ever condescend an MRR subscriber, Dan O’ Mahoney,
or as I like to call him, Dan O’ <b><i>Mojones</i></b> (like saying cojones, but
with an M. It’s Cuban slang that means a shit-log, or a turd). And now, here he is, on stage in Miami,
because someone gave this prick a time-slot and a microphone so he can sit
there and pontificate to a bunch of hardcore kids who hang on his every word. You
see, that’s always been the thing about the straight edge hardcore scene… If
you’re in a successful band, there is never a shortage of groupies willing to blow you on cue, it’s just that unfortunately, all of these groupies are adolescent boys.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
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</o:lock></v:path></v:stroke></span></v:shapetype><v:shape id="Picture_x0020_16" o:spid="_x0000_s1027" style="height: 311.25pt; left: 0; margin-left: 0; margin-top: 0; mso-height-percent: 0; mso-height-percent: 0; mso-height-relative: margin; mso-position-horizontal-relative: margin; mso-position-horizontal: left; mso-position-vertical-relative: margin; mso-position-vertical: bottom; mso-wrap-distance-bottom: 0; mso-wrap-distance-left: 9pt; mso-wrap-distance-right: 9pt; mso-wrap-distance-top: 0; mso-wrap-style: square; position: absolute; text-align: left; visibility: visible; width: 151.5pt; z-index: 251662336;" type="#_x0000_t75">'
<v:imagedata grayscale="t" o:title="" src="file:///C:\Users\IRONFR~1\AppData\Local\Temp\msohtmlclip1\01\clip_image001.gif"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><w:wrap anchorx="margin" anchory="margin" type="square"></w:wrap></span></v:imagedata></v:shape><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Then, in
keeping with the spirit of self-righteous zealotry, <b>CHORUS OF DISAPPROVAL</b> played. I have a question for any hardcore
historians reading this… Was there ever a time when CHORUS OF DIAPPROVAL was not
a Panko-breaded piece of shit? They fucking sucked! All it takes is two decades time to magically transform shit records into sought after gems! Why is it that in all of the
revivalism hysteria of new jacks trying to be “down with the roots”, that even
the truly shitty gets regurgitated? CHORUS only selling shtick was the whole “in
your face straight edge tough guy” act. Everybody knows the golden rule...</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"> <span style="font-size: large;">Militancy Sells Records and
T-shirts! </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Then in the spirit of militancy, another cult 90's hardcore band (of local origin) was yanked from
their eternal resting place, the marginal (at best) <b>CULTURE</b>. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">If you ask me, you should have left them wherever the fuck they were at.
Original front man and narcissist extraordinaire Damien Moyal joined his fellow
militant vegan DEA candidates on stage for a heart-worming reunion. Actually, I
don’t think any of those fools are still straight edge. And no, that wasn’t a
type-o, by the way. I meant to write heart-worming, not heart-warming as you
may have thought. It gives me heart-worms to see that this band got to play once
again. And by the way, I have a hard time believing that the singer was a vegan
even back in the day. That dude had such a bad case of Pizza face in the 90s that
I could have sworn he was moisturizing his skin with butter and bacon grease,
and those are not cruelty free products. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcqY6CRp0NSdyIiebo2LTZYgooGv0_fsgKUwGrnRsNIG9ZCl363H0_tbjcJWz5sATKdVgc12eJ_dDUhBT8G9yp9qtWHe8S9mdRvALKORS9ggDPw5Nr06VCiUNRccFMmi-0W3UHqZh5kgo/s1600/showreview2.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcqY6CRp0NSdyIiebo2LTZYgooGv0_fsgKUwGrnRsNIG9ZCl363H0_tbjcJWz5sATKdVgc12eJ_dDUhBT8G9yp9qtWHe8S9mdRvALKORS9ggDPw5Nr06VCiUNRccFMmi-0W3UHqZh5kgo/s400/showreview2.gif" width="185" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Without a doubt, the worst name for a
hardcore band ever! Culture... what the fuck is that?! Nobody cared to tell these
nudniks that there was already a very well-known reggae outfit by that
name? And even so, how does that word
tie in to their whole bit? It doesn’t. Maybe they should have taken a culture
of Damien’s face in the 90s and studied the tissue samples of his mountainous
acne. Musically, they don’t fall far from the suck-tree either. They’re
mediocre at best, and I for one really don’t understand their mythical scene
status. Not hating, just, someone has to be the scene equivalent of Simon
Cowell with some brutal honesty. I saw them play their first gig with SNAPCASE when they toured in
support of their first LP in the 90s and remember thinking that <b><i>a)</i></b> CULTURE kind of really sucks and <b><i>b)</i></b> Rich Thurston’s head must have
its own gravitational pull. Well, from the looks of my prophetic vision, the
guy’s melon is still industrial sized. That thing is probably tied in to the
whole 2012/polar axis tilt/doomsday thing. If you look at the crowd shot on the
front cover of the classic piece of Miami vinyl, the ‘NOTES FROM THE SOUTH”
compilation 7” (on Youth Bus Records, I think), there you will see a picture of
a live crowd moshing and diving under the planet Jupiter. No, it’s not the
planet Jupiter, actually its Rich Thurston’s ginormous head, keeping all circle
pits spinning in his orbit. Look at the size of that thing. His head is so big
that his forehead is really a five-head. But asides from being a cephalic
juggernaut, now he’s some big scary MMA fighter, which has probably empowered
the cowardly lion hidden deep beneath his massive yet useless frame. (Not that
I want to be a gossip slut, but for a dude his size too get irreverently
KNOCKED THE FUCK OUT by old-school Miami alumnus legend Sapo (of DICK SCROTUM AND THE WEAPONS OF ASS DESTRUCTION fame), I don’t see much of a future for him inside the steel octagon. But
I’ve digressed… Even with
his high readings on the Douche-O-Meter, Thurston isn’t the biggest cunt-bag in
that outfit. That prestigious honor goes to the singer, the insufferable Damien
Moyal ( thin crust with everything on top). What a shithead! You want to talk about someone who found some kind of fluke
apotheosis via hardcore music and its fans, all of whom are so desperate for a
little side of melodrama with their Metal Hammer?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"> I don’t either, so
we’ll move on.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"> I just don’t care for
the guy. I never have. Don’t know the guy personally, don’t want to. Don’t
care. He may even be a lovely person, who’s to say? But there’s just some people sharing oxygen with us on this planet that you for reasons unbeknownst to you, you just want to stomp into Tomato paste, and for me, he’s one of them. That’s
pretty much the bulk of mention-worthy events from the Saturday bill. Sunday
night was the big draw. Hopefully, all of the members of bands set to play the
following day will not be crushed accidentally by Rich Thurston’s massive
head. Oh yeah, TRIAL played, which I
would comment on, except I have no idea who the fuck they are. The singer looks like he was the oldest looking kid at his Bar Mitzvah, though. What’s with the generic name? TRIAL?! They sound like a
Christian Power Metal band.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Sunday night rolls around and a sea of heavily tattooed, not-so-young </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">prospective</span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Republicans in t-shirts that all bear band logos
emblazoned on the chest in collegiate font, congregate for the final rite of
this pussy-less orgy of temperance and prudence. Good old </span><b style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i>Clap and Kick</i></b><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> (tm) outdid
his self in combing through every retirement home and seniors community of
south Florida to find some nice rare treats as this evenings early-bird house warmers. And finally,
somewhere in Century Village he found </span><b style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">POWERHOUSE</b><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">
and </span><b style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">The BELIEVERS</b><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">, battling one another in an all out shuffle-board shootout. The Believers
were a local band whose only recorded output might very well be a song or two on
the aforementioned compilation on Youth Bus (I think). How they performed without the aid of their walkers, I will never know. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Old, frail bones depleted of glucosamine
rattled under the weight of a geriatric and obese POWERHOUSE line-up, as they tried
to perform quintessential youth crew jumps. They are a nice little credit to
the unsung pantheon of South Florida Hardcore though. Their sought after 7”
record was among the first couple of releases from NEW AGE RECORDS, an important
hardcore label in its own right, especially as far as this festivals theme is
concerned. <b>BIRD OF ILL OMEN</b> reunited
for the fest, and from the Youtube footage, I’d say they were among the better
acts that played, they had good energy. Here you have another band with a cult
status, largely attributed to their being an early medium of evil/metallic
hardcore. And if you give a shit about Eulogy Records (which I don’t), these guys
were Eulogy release 001! So, kudos to them for that little credit! <b>MEAN SEASON</b> played later on, and let me
just say how appropriate it was that BIRD opened for them. Because having known
BIRD master-mind Tom Rankine (alias Rankinestein) for a very long time, I can personally attest that the
conception of BIRD in part was largely influenced by a period of Tom constantly jacking his
dick to MEAN SEASON’s “Grace” LP (and occasionally fingering his asshole till prostate milking to OVERCAST’s
‘Expectational Delusion’).<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>MEAN SEASON</b>, all I can say for them
is that a recording studio can conceal a multitude of sins. I must thank my
instincts to stay blow off the show and stay home loaded on Valium and Mojitos, because I saw the YouTube footage and they kind of sucked a bit,
this coming from a huge fan, mind you! Aaron Kelly’s vocals really don’t
compliment their sick style, and his stage presence is awkward and
uncharismatic. Not to mention (which I'm about to) that he seems a little lite in the loafers if you ask me...</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Not that there's anything wrong with that...</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I'm just saying...<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Up next came <b>SHAI
HULUD</b>. Don’t care all that much for them, but I won’t rip them too bad because
those dudes really know how to write some epic fucking songs, and they play
them very well. I actually own a couple of their records, and though they’re
not really my thing, even Stevie Wonder could see that these cats got talent. I
think the fact that I’m lukewarm about them has little to do with their actual
music and more with their fan constituency, which I would love being able to mow
them all down with an AK-47 and then dump unceremoniously into a mass grave. And
if SHAI HULUD are as misanthropic a bunch as a few of their song/album titles
would suggest, then I’m sure they can empathize with my previous genocidal
sentiment. It's just that for some reason, I find a correlation between the fact that all of the front-row dick-pullers at all of their local shows seemed to be the man-by-man role call of my "Must Murder" list. But as for these cats, they are musicians plain and simple, and I
respect that. Asides from that, in the few interactions that I’ve had
personally with Matt Fox, back<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">when he was still a Local, I only remember him to be a really
nice dude, so I’ll give them a pass. Matt used to work at a record shop back when record shops still existed, and he would always hook up the locals big-time at the cash out... Oh yea, Chad Gilbert was a nice kid too. I
remember when he first started going to shows, I think he was about 15, 16,
something like that, his breath still smelling like Similac, just barely big enough to carry the weight of his JNCO jeans and his Panthers Hockey Jersey (so quintessential). Chad was their
second front man, replacing none other than the aforementioned piece of sewage-work
named Damien “E<i>xtra Anchovies</i>”
Moyal on throat duty. Chad went on to play guitar for NEW FOUND GLORY, the
biggest suck-fest since Friday nights in the Clinton era oval office. The few
times that I briefly stumbled across their music, I felt my testosterone levels
plummet by more than half. But SHAI HULUD is a whole different animal, and
again, those two cats are good people.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6QjVYs_3Salm-mHbTTcAQsyi0LFf9DHxo7gTgLNzBsSm0f_6rMkD3StUg3JAh-U2F3Yqjw8DcPj1x17G-Zh5KMq2SHOCW8KZD2axzIAhkMUaJPlsio2ro-kPCEwbv6UgJIXOIJPk5ZhY/s1600/showreview3.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6QjVYs_3Salm-mHbTTcAQsyi0LFf9DHxo7gTgLNzBsSm0f_6rMkD3StUg3JAh-U2F3Yqjw8DcPj1x17G-Zh5KMq2SHOCW8KZD2axzIAhkMUaJPlsio2ro-kPCEwbv6UgJIXOIJPk5ZhY/s400/showreview3.png" width="400" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><v:shape id="Picture_x0020_23" o:spid="_x0000_i1025" style="height: 158.25pt; mso-wrap-style: square; visibility: visible; width: 237pt;" type="#_x0000_t75">
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Oh, and by the way, if you have ever wondered what the fuck
a SHAI HULUD is… <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">The Shai Hulud are those huge uncircumcised sandworms from
the 80s film cult classic DUNE. Considered to be God, or damn near close, their
excrement when mixed with water became ‘The Spice Melange’, an addictive
geriatric drug that extended life, gave heightened awareness and prescience,
and allowed for the user to bend time and space. Funny thing… Despite being
temperate straight edgers, I’m sure that many of the musicians on hand that
night could have benefited from Spice Melange. Simply because it extends lives
nearing their last flip through a calendar. And as for allowing space travel,
I’m sure that most of these said musicians would love to time travel back to
when they were relevant again <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">The sandworms would pop out of the desert sands and devour
anything in sight, including mining equipment used to extract their psychedelic
Ca-Ca. Their attacks were provoked by the rhythmic thumping of the mining
equipment on their planet’s surface. It kind of makes me wish that the band’s
music would have invoked their voracious phallic namesake to come and swallow
the crowd on hand, or at the very least, they could have burrowed in a couple
of not so unreceptive rectums. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Last, and definitely least, <b>BY THE GRACE OF GOD</b>, which suck so bad that I can only hope that
Rich Thurston’s boulder-skull crushed them all during their set. This band is
fronted by that ass-bag that sang in ENDPOINT. Enough said. ENDPOINT was one of
the worst hardcore bands of the 90s, as well as being a front runner in the
race to reach the peak of <i>Mount Politically
Correct</i>. Fuck BY THE GRACE OF GOD! Their whole shtick was based on the
premise that “Punk has lost its way, it’s getting too commercial”, ironically using dollar signs in their band logo to emphasize this creed. Meanwhile,
they hypocritically released their records through VICTORY RECORDS, which
almost single handedly destroyed hardcore through hyper-capitalism and marketing,
marketing, marketing! Good job dick!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Props and shout-outs to Brent from Kentucky’s DIRT MERCHANT
Zine, whom in the 90s would stand in the front row during ENDPOINT shows, eating
a bucket of the Colonel’s Original Recipe Chicken while screaming “MURDER
TASTES SO GOOD!” That’s great! I’m surprised that no hardline sleeper cells in
Kentucky attempted on Brent’s life for his sacrilegious consumption of Foghorn
Leghorn’s wayward children.</span><span style="font-family: Andalus, serif; font-size: 9pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Well, that’s it. That’s all the material I got on this
douche-fest. Hey Mark, don’t do it again, OK? Cut it out, thanks!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
Lord Frankhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15782661284097098722noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9053398593058477345.post-65479213224420184272013-01-10T09:55:00.002-08:002013-01-10T09:55:31.354-08:00The Return of the Magus<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWvCKGm4MuS8tZmJjYGHbXzmCl6PqCYuKf_fAkwXE4rrZx2klDTBFhCFuGQumJTIbdLZ2YVLry2VL7_huTGDyILa8Cu4i-pXpNSXU7ibXcMPeRYcuE06a306r0r8bUHbknBq2f9uqORCc/s1600/tales-blog-pig+latin.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="287" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWvCKGm4MuS8tZmJjYGHbXzmCl6PqCYuKf_fAkwXE4rrZx2klDTBFhCFuGQumJTIbdLZ2YVLry2VL7_huTGDyILa8Cu4i-pXpNSXU7ibXcMPeRYcuE06a306r0r8bUHbknBq2f9uqORCc/s400/tales-blog-pig+latin.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><strong><u>It’s the return of the high priest.</u></strong></span></span></div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><b>For all three of you who may
occasionally drop into this blog for lack of something better to do, I
apologize for my extended cessation. I have been in seclusion since October,
beginning with the month leading up to the Presidential elections which did
consume most of my time and efforts. Your old friend, Lord and Master, faithful
droog decided to hone his activist chops in 2012 and got on board with the rest
of the NPR/Birkenstock crowd in Miami. The Democratic Party had clearly assessed
that they were dealing with a dirty, filthy, stinking rat fink of a Republican
the likes of which would give Richard Nixon an emotional erection, so they
reached out into the darkened gutters of the moon-lit underworld to seek the
aid of the one man capable of fighting dirt with filth… yours truly, Almighty
Pig Latin. The world sat on the edges of their ass-sweat saturated couches,
thinking that this would be a close one, and for the first hour and a half of
the tallies it was. But in my tower of despair, doom and desolation, I watched
the whole thing live and in technicolor, and just fanned my balls with my paperback edition of the
Necronomicon, in somewhat of a celebratory manner, for I knew that the one of
the biggest landslides in Election Day history was about to unfurl, no doubt
partially due to my involvement in this election and the barrage of Black Ops
tactics that I employed to attain the outcome which I was contracted to secure. The
President even thanked me personally, in a private luncheon sacrilegiously held
at the LA CARRETA Restaurant, right across the street from the notorious den of right-wing
Neo-Con iniquities, VERSAILLES Restaurant. I even have a picture to prove it…<o:p></o:p></b></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOmK0BIwheUgWQ-cNsT5rketh0jWqDlu7Cl8CVvxJz76VMj8bKzBX7QpeTBBB3WP6GCmuupnBNRXXnOIjhvHr4eesVtnmRNmxbKqLzvrz9s_aLuAMrJD8YCxRtguYvb5Vy4xX8En6b7gE/s1600/piglatinmeetsobama.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><b><img border="0" height="255" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOmK0BIwheUgWQ-cNsT5rketh0jWqDlu7Cl8CVvxJz76VMj8bKzBX7QpeTBBB3WP6GCmuupnBNRXXnOIjhvHr4eesVtnmRNmxbKqLzvrz9s_aLuAMrJD8YCxRtguYvb5Vy4xX8En6b7gE/s400/piglatinmeetsobama.jpg" width="400" /></b></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><b>He ordered the C<i>roqueta Preparada </i>and <i>un Batido de Fruta Bomba</i>. </b></span></td></tr>
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<b><o:p><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span></o:p><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">When the smoke cleared, and my man Barack was still H.N.I.C. of the
United Snakes of AmeriKKKa, I completely shut down operations at all TOP
franchises and went into hiding in the official TOP bunker in anticipation of Republican backlash to a media-assassination campaign that I unleashed on the Romney camp (more details later on...) But more importantly, I was taking up refuge from the Mayan shit-storm which was too come on the winter solstice of 2012. I am
not ashamed to admit that the Mayan prospect of our planet becoming a cosmic
piñata was a major source of anxiety and depression, as I had totally bought
into it. Well, what?! The evidence seemed truly substantial. And besides, for
someone who is into all of the dopey Occult/Esoteric shit that I’m into, I ask,
is it really that far-fetched to believe in the end of days? Mathematically
speaking, it’s only a numbers game before the galactic shit hits the universal
fan anyways! I digress. As a result of the paralyzing fear of my impending
doom, it’s needless to say that I found just about every activity (save for my increased
drug use and masturbation to Japanese schoolgirl/bondage porn) quite pointless.
So you can imagine that when I was still alive on December 22</span><sup style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">nd</sup><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">
2012, I felt like a man who had been given a new lease on life… a second chance
to really get it right this time… That may be the reason why I was somewhat of
a modernized treatment of Ebenezer Scrooge on Christmas day, full to the brim
with holiday cheer, because of the fact that the Earth was still in its rightful orbit among it's planetary brothers and sisters, with a seemingly standard axis tilt. The land was still where land should be,
the sea was still where the sea should be, who can complain?!</span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><b>It is primarily because of these two distractions that I have not been
actively infecting the blogosphere with cyber-Gonorrhea in quite some time and
quite frankly, I am not sure that I had plans to continue doing so. I mean,
let’s be honest here, there’s less people who read this blog than those that
actually read my dopey Zine. It just feels pointless. Not that I want to
disparage my semi-handful of TOP fans who really do love the Zine, but it’s
just starting to seem like I need to re-think and re-conceptualize the
journalistic wing of TALES OF PERVERSION WORLDWIDE INDUSTRIES. People don’t
really read anymore; I guess mostly because most people can’t, and those that
do are probably a bit too smart to read this stupid fucking blog. As far as the
print version of TALES OF PERVERSION zine… that’s out for good. Four issues of
that sucker is as deep as we’ll go into that epic saga. Doing a fanzine in 2013
is not like how it was in the golden heyday of D.I.Y. publishing circa the early 1990's, when
aspiring young antisocial pseudo-intellectuals could walk into any given Office
Depot or Kinko's with the hard copy of a fanzine and rob them blind of copies.
That racket dried up a long time ago with the invention of the mark of the beast... debit card swipes! And so to publish even a minimal 50
copies per issue (even in digest format) is fucking expensive! Not to mention,
if you charge $3 bucks a pop per zine (to be able to at least break even), people will
look at you like “$3 bucks for this shit?!” I am compelled to remind these
assholes that it is no longer 1992 and the days of the $1.50 fanzine are long
gone. Second, I would like to also mention the fact that every one of these shit-head
kids looking for cool scene cred (which I target as my demographic) spend more
than a measly $3 bones<span style="line-height: normal;"> </span>on some horridly
unintelligible <span style="line-height: normal;"> </span>sounding, obscure crust
band from Bosnia or some other unknown country that the Iron Curtain took a
bloody shit on. Do these assholes mean to tell me that $3 bucks is not a fair asking price worthy of the
great bits in the mighty, mighty, TALES OF PERVERSION fanzine? Listen, take it
from me, I have been doing fanzines since I figured out that if you keep stroking
it there is an exhilarating, messy endgame... TALES OF PERVERSION is probably one of the greatest fanzines of all
time… <span style="line-height: normal;"> </span>POINT BLANK PERIOD…<o:p></o:p></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><b>Unfortunately, fanzines are a neglected, and almost obsolete medium. The
only way that fanzines are going to enjoy any kind of a resurgence is if you eradicate the internet. And
that is not going to happen. Rightfully so! I love fanzines as much as the next
prick, but I’m not willing to do away with instant access to Wikipedia and
YouJizz.com just so that virgins everywhere with scissors, glue sticks and
indignation can once again rise to the elevated status of obscurity from
fanzine days of lore.<o:p></o:p></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><b>So as to what the future holds for the media wing of this hairy-bush-league
worldwide powerhouse known as TALES OF PERVERSION, only time will tell. I’m
still running TALES OF PERVERSION RECORDS, and currently wrapping up the
production on our 100<sup>th</sup> release, which is my 5 CD spoken word box
set…<o:p></o:p></b></span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxbda6JBb7EQO7R8qw13s_7R9P_acuG7smNdn1a8jUli-bHvwWKliz30CPp1taGilXfKAUJCzMJ3FDpTsLgmpeMHTRYWT1Wxce-Tx-V5zoV5gmEPtY7UYWh32QoYcrtB69YU1lPng-GAY/s1600/warAgainsthumanity+copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><b><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxbda6JBb7EQO7R8qw13s_7R9P_acuG7smNdn1a8jUli-bHvwWKliz30CPp1taGilXfKAUJCzMJ3FDpTsLgmpeMHTRYWT1Wxce-Tx-V5zoV5gmEPtY7UYWh32QoYcrtB69YU1lPng-GAY/s400/warAgainsthumanity+copy.jpg" width="370" /></b></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><b>I consider this work to be my Opus Magnus</b></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<b><o:p><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span></o:p><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">So for now, I will be posting some of the bits that were going to be
part of TALES OF PERVERSION Fanzine Volume 5 on the blog over the course of the next week or so. Also, there will be a
couple of interviews and a show review of the REEL AND RESTLESS 90's Hardcore
Fest that went on down here in the fall. I know it’s old and irrelevant at this
point, but I had some observations that I found humorous and did not want to go
to waste. Enjoy! </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> </span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><b> </b><span style="font-size: large;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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Lord Frankhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15782661284097098722noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9053398593058477345.post-47173675713731699422012-09-14T10:51:00.000-07:002012-09-14T10:51:01.114-07:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh07cxQTSed0NJXCtL-5J1PqcfExwPbSy94iiGS7Xq60fls4xctnNFe9bMa6_6WEkcObxqqFtraJRO2zAkRYI_NghgEv-RynTCOpoRVcRZIcoLyStaWkejfafVwm61k3PbbMDI2PRXZDOo/s1600/explosion.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh07cxQTSed0NJXCtL-5J1PqcfExwPbSy94iiGS7Xq60fls4xctnNFe9bMa6_6WEkcObxqqFtraJRO2zAkRYI_NghgEv-RynTCOpoRVcRZIcoLyStaWkejfafVwm61k3PbbMDI2PRXZDOo/s400/explosion.jpg" width="368" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-large;">So this is it huh?! </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-large;">The catalyst for our obliteration was a stupid low budget video!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">The shit really hit the fanatic this time! I would have thought that the war of all against all would have popped off over something a little more serious than some extremely boring and poorly made video. It looks like one of those BETA-MAX quality videos that you can get made of you and your friends doing a cover of Whitesnake's "Is This Love" at the county fair. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">The relatively blasphemous "INNOCENCE OF ISLAM" video is the new outrage </span><i style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">du jour </i><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">for the turban wearing world that will usher in the new age of quarrel. Honestly, I couldn't even get through the trailer, it's so fucking booorrrring. But I can see how the subject matter can cause outrage to the religious whacko set. According to reports from those who can actually watch this thing all the way through, the film portrays the prophet Muhammad of the Islamic faith as a thief, pedophile and homosexual. The volatile film was masterminded by a Coptic Christian from Egypt with a hundred aliases. Kind of like a one man Ali Baba and the forty thieves. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Reception of the video by Muslims has been less than warm, and some chicken little reporters are already foaming at the mouth with the suggestion that this could very well be the jump off for World War 3. And from the sounds of today's protesters in Sudan whom chanted "Obama, there are a million Osama's!", I would be scared too. The message is self explanatory I think, and rather ominous.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Really, though? Over some stupid ass video? Some shitty '<i>Public Access TV</i>' looking piece of shit was the straw that broke the proverbial camel's back? Pun may have been intended.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Well boys and girls, here we go again. It's back to checking our daily color alert on CNN. <i>"<b>Oh shit, we're at magenta with white polka dots today, better cancel that 12PM rub & tug</b>!"</i> Back to paying a jillion dollars per gallon of gas! Here we go once again, sweating bullets trying to figure out which one of our local Quickie Marts is the one that holds meetings for sleeper cells in it's backroom. Word to the wise, a Slurpee boycott would be ideal right now. Slurpees are an excellent medium for use in biological warfare. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Still I can't help but think that maybe, just maybe, we should just leave those whacky Jihadists alone. Why poke and prod at them if you already know that any little religious parody will set them off like that weed that Curtis Baby sold Cheech in the cinematic tour de force '<b><i>Up in Smoke</i></b>'. I mean, free speech is free speech, or so the argument goes. But when somebody else's free speech infringes on my right to not fear a nuclear war-head blowing up my shit, then we have a problem. Free Speech seems very expensive a proposition when it's used to agitate people who have no qualms with blowing themselves the fuck up to take you with them just to prove a point. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Still, it seems to be the right wing Jesus-gestapo's opinion that the children of the infinite sand trap need to "get over it." Anybody know what channel that Christ-Twat Pat Robertson is on? I'd love to hear his take on this! I'm sure it'll be something completely non offensive that will make things much better. If the tables were turned, would these Christian idiots have such a casual attitude about low budget, gonzo blasphemy? Say for example, some guy named Hassan Al Habib Muhammad Mustafa Jenkins published a video of Jesus taking a gang-banging from a couple of Roman centurions, or going all Roman Polanski on a Cub Scout, or any other unsavory depictions of the naughty Nazarene, how would the bible belt react? </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">I'll tell you how...</span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b><span style="font-size: large;">-A frenzy of angry tongue speaking</span></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b><span style="font-size: large;"> -Full on Koran burning rallies</span></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b><span style="font-size: large;">-A spiking of anti-Islam hate crimes</span></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b><span style="font-size: large;"> -Rampant vandalism of Mosques</span></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b><span style="font-size: large;">-Snake handlers chucking Copperheads and Rattlers at passing cab drivers,</span></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b><span style="font-size: large;"> etc, etc, etc...</span></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Or maybe not, since Christians are just crazy, ignorant and rather stupid, but have no real balls to back up their White Anglo Saxon Protestant bravado. I've never heard of some Born-Again screaming "JESUS-U-AKHBAR" before setting off the detonator to the 200 pounds of C4 explosives packed into their Nissan Murano as they plow into an abortion clinic!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Leave it to those Christians man, whether Coptic or otherwise, they're always fucking up everybody's shit! What have I told you about them time and time again? If ever there was a worldwide common enemy for Earthlings to rally against, it's the Cunts of the Christ! In some way shape or form, they are always behind turning the world into a fucking powder keg. Like, they just can't leave well enough alone! </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">As for now, there is little else to do but sit tight in our homes, hoping that whoever pushes the button gets the coordinates wrong and ends up blowing up France instead. I mean, France, who's going to fucking care if France gets the Nuke!? I certainly won't shed a tear. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">And as far as all of you angry Arabs out there in Libya, and Yemen and other Expedia vacation hot-spots, getting all surly at a proper flag burning, get a grip! Really! You guys are in the middle east, literally surrounded by glorious Opium fields and the highest quality Hashish strains on Earth, just chill-ax, OK?! Smoke a bowl of fresh poppy resin. Fire off a gram or two of some choice Lebanese hash in the old hookah and just knock it off already. OK, OK, we get it, you hate America. Who doesn't? Just mellow out man! </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Tell you what, if we hand over to you the blasphemous filmmaker, George W. Bush, the </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Kardashians, and a few guards from Guantanamo to do with as you please, could we then call it even? Just wrap your turbans around it and get back to us, no big whoop!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">And as for the douche who put together this little Citizen Kane, hey douche-bag, thanks a lot! Things were mellowing out a little in that god-forsaken desert till you had to go and set them off again. If we get hit by another 9/11 type of attack, there is only you to blame! Suck my Coptic cock you Egyptian ass-bag. </span></div>
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<br />Lord Frankhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15782661284097098722noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9053398593058477345.post-21335151351577595232012-08-02T15:54:00.000-07:002012-08-02T15:54:02.693-07:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj63QCmRwBtZWtmwdCWeLWUxV3zeUOug1bGgnhlHXS_YZ0PmGNc5ifxV4mnhOGFnIIndeyZMxgdaP0SUhHR52k9Oecuaffi7Mk9Mp1HjX4b_ylFOTVj_Xxo1wxQyFLzcx2RsrrinMEojLY/s1600/tales-inverted.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj63QCmRwBtZWtmwdCWeLWUxV3zeUOug1bGgnhlHXS_YZ0PmGNc5ifxV4mnhOGFnIIndeyZMxgdaP0SUhHR52k9Oecuaffi7Mk9Mp1HjX4b_ylFOTVj_Xxo1wxQyFLzcx2RsrrinMEojLY/s400/tales-inverted.jpg" width="335" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">FEAR AND LOATHING IN</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">PUBLIX SUPERMARKET</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZqr8dPJQ9F3sEdlv6gmFZPM9hABNUlMWrg3Sx05PmcD3pQpuIGdNB34iXRAbrEafkFF1Tvry8l1jtRR1cNkNCTxF36p8V_3c2EnpN3cyI5iIJDUHN55O4mfKqZ2chjKL6W8SIUDb_hYI/s1600/photo.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZqr8dPJQ9F3sEdlv6gmFZPM9hABNUlMWrg3Sx05PmcD3pQpuIGdNB34iXRAbrEafkFF1Tvry8l1jtRR1cNkNCTxF36p8V_3c2EnpN3cyI5iIJDUHN55O4mfKqZ2chjKL6W8SIUDb_hYI/s400/photo.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Needless to say I was horrified. I gagged, dry-heaved, and just a whisk of bile from the pits of my stomach ascended my esophagus.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Oh, the horror! Could it be? Is it possible that for years, every time I caught a flu, or Diarrhea, etc., that my mother or wife may actually have been feeding me warm Dick water under the guise of "Chicken Soup?"</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"> Excuse me a sec...</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj63QCmRwBtZWtmwdCWeLWUxV3zeUOug1bGgnhlHXS_YZ0PmGNc5ifxV4mnhOGFnIIndeyZMxgdaP0SUhHR52k9Oecuaffi7Mk9Mp1HjX4b_ylFOTVj_Xxo1wxQyFLzcx2RsrrinMEojLY/s1600/tales-inverted.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj63QCmRwBtZWtmwdCWeLWUxV3zeUOug1bGgnhlHXS_YZ0PmGNc5ifxV4mnhOGFnIIndeyZMxgdaP0SUhHR52k9Oecuaffi7Mk9Mp1HjX4b_ylFOTVj_Xxo1wxQyFLzcx2RsrrinMEojLY/s400/tales-inverted.jpg" width="335" /></a></div>
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<br /></div>Lord Frankhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15782661284097098722noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9053398593058477345.post-80239217730184501162012-07-11T15:50:00.003-07:002012-07-11T15:54:59.667-07:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxMjN59Zpdg-BLtmuNAjGF2OC0YXCe_0Tx-HGgA_PUw0A3WQPyqYI46N4MFzTpECEm8Eo_gdZjvRht-S3Nb6CCB6sPXVBJHc-OU3n1gIWF1XggZxLdeWZbRJjZ09xulaiti7LxQ7S3xcM/s1600/TOPsticker1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="373" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxMjN59Zpdg-BLtmuNAjGF2OC0YXCe_0Tx-HGgA_PUw0A3WQPyqYI46N4MFzTpECEm8Eo_gdZjvRht-S3Nb6CCB6sPXVBJHc-OU3n1gIWF1XggZxLdeWZbRJjZ09xulaiti7LxQ7S3xcM/s400/TOPsticker1.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: x-large;"><b><i><u>TRUE BLOOD FUCKING SUCKS!</u></i></b></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMiv811o5moWB7jiZYuF9FZn7AV-u7SNRGUsKAFf-pCkov5XrXxNOXK8FFC_wNmDMlv1bdWNznVyXQS76IhRgZL5fifmJK5VDgPzv0kuvNhKjNRgskHyC0iJvJViL2iUontofLCCdWpFg/s1600/little+alex+-+Copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="476" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMiv811o5moWB7jiZYuF9FZn7AV-u7SNRGUsKAFf-pCkov5XrXxNOXK8FFC_wNmDMlv1bdWNznVyXQS76IhRgZL5fifmJK5VDgPzv0kuvNhKjNRgskHyC0iJvJViL2iUontofLCCdWpFg/s640/little+alex+-+Copy.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<h2 style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: x-large;">How the fuck does HBO go from GAME OF THRONES to back that Shit-Fest called TRUE BLOOD?</span></h2>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZDnnYuNjPwm2w8Mpz8b9CuRMcpkaa7GzGX8x5j0yMWMBMzZBoPjini9cth8pIz6DdZF8AlE8j2x03VPd_ObGtBODSUy7gA-oCLTEdd7nqGqdTevq-LL6WyjtBq_iquCtCNe0DhBb7e14/s1600/tales-inverted.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZDnnYuNjPwm2w8Mpz8b9CuRMcpkaa7GzGX8x5j0yMWMBMzZBoPjini9cth8pIz6DdZF8AlE8j2x03VPd_ObGtBODSUy7gA-oCLTEdd7nqGqdTevq-LL6WyjtBq_iquCtCNe0DhBb7e14/s320/tales-inverted.jpg" width="268" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>The biggest favor that HBO could have ever of done for it's subscribers would've been to cancel this god-awful series after season 2. After that it was 'Shark Jump City'. Not even a Weed and Valium cocktail during the viewing of this retinal herpes sore can make the show watchable. Look, I'm not even going to hate on season 1. I found it to be a fresh and interesting concept at first. But then it all went south when the writing took a nose dive right in the middle of the second season. So, if VICTORY RECORDS were to start distributing the seasons on DVD, the marketing hook should read as follows:</b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>TRUE BLOOD- <i><u>for fans of being patronized by 'make it up as we go along' writing and characters so annoying that you end up wanting to do THIS after watching an episode:</u></i></b></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwKr3uIAImBo4ihjVcJL5vqBT4pUFwL2ROMxx30Kzze89UAfFicJyU6Z68RcfMIRpZuygxKvvBV3V57w2nOMXsoEwhKdFB9NQXnZMng6dN3TExIZdAyMmgiKk2w2NLGsXmH7RD-iQHT1o/s1600/suicidehotline4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><i><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwKr3uIAImBo4ihjVcJL5vqBT4pUFwL2ROMxx30Kzze89UAfFicJyU6Z68RcfMIRpZuygxKvvBV3V57w2nOMXsoEwhKdFB9NQXnZMng6dN3TExIZdAyMmgiKk2w2NLGsXmH7RD-iQHT1o/s400/suicidehotline4.jpg" width="272" /></i></a></div>
<b>It's funny because I really thought that nothing can come even remotely close to sucking as bad as those TWILIGHT movies, yet TRUE BLOOD disproved my hypothesis. One should almost feel that the writers are openly insulting the viewers with writing that could be better executed if I stuck a crayon up my ass, squatted over a few sheets of paper, wiggled my ass around a bit, and BINGO- We've Got A Script! Uh-Oh, my Sookie Stackhouse-like power to read minds can hear the show's creators thoughts! Wanna hear what he's thinking?</b><br />
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<b><i>"Fuck! This Jerk-Off discovered my secret story-boarding method!"</i></b><br />
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<b>I think that the purpose of this particular rant is just for venting purposes. I really don't think that I want to ruin this perfectly blissful 10mg Diazepam buzz by detailing the horrors of this show's whack-ness. It's more about keeping my sanity and preventing from throwing my flat-screen against the floor in a total 'Office Space printer scene' like beat down. I've mentioned in the past that my bride and I share one TV here in the Tales' Dungeon of Perversions, forcing me to view some of my her preferred viewing. So, having said that, can I be at blame if TRUE BLOOD finally made my cup runneth over after all the shit TV that I am collaterally exposed to? </b><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIm35bWLfAoEHbRi5LeTjWTgqWRvi2wh2gLuktNCc9uE13oY33HqUPVd70XCpOY0BjiMVdAZ6leJTQ8Jo8s8mH8uPn9ZGOEIOLwT42kx4WPRdQgTanN3R4BAOQ9VGYLgPmaP_IF3HTXSI/s1600/true-blood-cast-1024x576-600x337.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="223" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIm35bWLfAoEHbRi5LeTjWTgqWRvi2wh2gLuktNCc9uE13oY33HqUPVd70XCpOY0BjiMVdAZ6leJTQ8Jo8s8mH8uPn9ZGOEIOLwT42kx4WPRdQgTanN3R4BAOQ9VGYLgPmaP_IF3HTXSI/s400/true-blood-cast-1024x576-600x337.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<b style="background-color: white;">Since it is clear that the only redeeming quality of the show is the gratuitous nudity and/or fucking scenes, than would it be too much to ask if they would show some naked women for fuck sake? Wait, let me re-phrase that, some naked ATTRACTIVE women! I'm tired of watching Jason Stackhouse's ass trot across the scene, and the same goes for the mega-lame werewolf Alcide, showing his abs every 5 minutes. Let's face it, all of the eye-candy on the damn show is for the female/gay tastes. And what's worse is that all of the broads on the show are butt-booty-busted (Ana Paquin and her gap-tooth, Tara looks like a Koala in black-face, Pam looks like she can host a Lady-Boy pageant in Bangkok, etc.) All except for Jessica the red-head, who's cute, but has yet to have shown a half an ass cheek, even though she's been open for action since forever! The gross thing about her is that every time you stuff her pink coffin with a 'Stiff' (ha!), her hymen grows back. Yuck! What a waste of a perfectly fuckable ginger! Any experienced virgin surgeons out there know how unpleasant it is to feel the snap of a hymen. [<i>dry-heaving]</i></b><br />
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<b>I don't know... I'm just saying!</b><br />
<b>The valium tends to make me ramble, so maybe I better quit while I'm ahead. I don't know, Bela Lugosi and Boris Karloff must be rolling in their crypts like Rotisserie corpses. They must be saying "Is this what's become of the Vampire movie racket?"</b><br />
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<b>And you thought nothing was as fucking lame as TWILIGHT?</b><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Linda Blair after having watched this weeks episode!<br />
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<b><br /></b></div>Lord Frankhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15782661284097098722noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9053398593058477345.post-71934025671582453412012-06-30T20:47:00.003-07:002012-08-22T18:22:13.019-07:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcEGSEfBIEbf3iW0LKMPedkT4MPbu6wRax_taPcgsj9ehp88ptZxINGyXDKWCRafD0RftXi-TL8ktX5XWz81EjHxZ8heBY2oM-siqqae4SdGNk_9Sng6rKcv2_sn4cieWXutPL1M3Ygz4/s1600/Baphomet2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcEGSEfBIEbf3iW0LKMPedkT4MPbu6wRax_taPcgsj9ehp88ptZxINGyXDKWCRafD0RftXi-TL8ktX5XWz81EjHxZ8heBY2oM-siqqae4SdGNk_9Sng6rKcv2_sn4cieWXutPL1M3Ygz4/s400/Baphomet2.jpg" width="370" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfdXc_ghQmnbfsyQoGrnE-4041YHSNmBzew2e9M7MkC2KyREJiMhnUJeM4axI3SIUq9zKStKuscvPjEsldfoxUPkhqXD3CGkdIh-ZOKa2swA68q_spVD4GD33_O8C6dvFQd1jfY0DipGg/s1600/Tales-white.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="28" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfdXc_ghQmnbfsyQoGrnE-4041YHSNmBzew2e9M7MkC2KyREJiMhnUJeM4axI3SIUq9zKStKuscvPjEsldfoxUPkhqXD3CGkdIh-ZOKa2swA68q_spVD4GD33_O8C6dvFQd1jfY0DipGg/s400/Tales-white.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Volume 4</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrxIpDlolS1wDEkGK5hHcT8rW5lT_p0lvcrN58YOVShiDAULyPpZWJ7lRBVbbDjODcsB7sG4ukZUTfa_wfIVps0WOuyGxXaZNzueJep9Ea9yXzBNtAP8bL4Vq_KVXwvlFA1NgpsqNjpS4/s1600/ravereviews.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="312" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrxIpDlolS1wDEkGK5hHcT8rW5lT_p0lvcrN58YOVShiDAULyPpZWJ7lRBVbbDjODcsB7sG4ukZUTfa_wfIVps0WOuyGxXaZNzueJep9Ea9yXzBNtAP8bL4Vq_KVXwvlFA1NgpsqNjpS4/s400/ravereviews.gif" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: x-large;">Out now!!!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">$5 bucks/pre-order only</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">All the shit I can't say online thanks to the </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">PATRIOT Act, plus much, much, more. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">for info on how to catch Postal gonnoreah, just </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">email Pig Latin at:</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">talesofperversion666@hotmail.com</span></div>
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Lord Frankhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15782661284097098722noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9053398593058477345.post-50870028793608139012012-06-30T20:37:00.000-07:002012-10-04T18:21:28.377-07:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: x-large;">SPECIAL EDITION!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I ran into my old friend Lord Frank (Burning Strong/LVG) today! As usual, the good Lord busted out with a bowl of the Chronic and we started reminiscing about Miami Local music. We started talking about his completely unknown minimal underground hip-hop album...</span></div>
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I really dig this joint. As far as I'm concerned, this was one of (if not THE) first "bilingual/spanglish" hip hop records. True,you won't catch half of the metaphors/punchlines unless you a) are from Miami or b) are a Cuban, but I assure you it's fucking genius!</div>
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Here, check out my favorte cut... light one and enjoy-joy...</div>
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Since Tales of Perversion Zine Volume 4 just came of the presses today, I didn't get the chance to write this thing up. But I will most definitely work a Lord Frank interview into Tales of Perversion Volume 5...</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi15R9auflSkqEdu30bIZGRRRS-L7urSTLfvTdgd_8k-VW5v9aTtYdBsA36MzTeysIbjrC0J21pTWvcUTxrlu5wsa9F8Jc4gPyyOQMIoTR_wTnWw-bFA_-YQNBkSNORHAQ1sDsMUUuhGGc/s1600/Aleister2.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi15R9auflSkqEdu30bIZGRRRS-L7urSTLfvTdgd_8k-VW5v9aTtYdBsA36MzTeysIbjrC0J21pTWvcUTxrlu5wsa9F8Jc4gPyyOQMIoTR_wTnWw-bFA_-YQNBkSNORHAQ1sDsMUUuhGGc/s400/Aleister2.png" width="336" /></a></div>
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Lord Frankhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15782661284097098722noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9053398593058477345.post-22709179317406154822012-06-25T19:32:00.000-07:002012-06-25T19:32:51.469-07:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihcKjjlgFIL-BSidmVgBsQ9BN8udJzI17H-m-1-DRBCTBFSyCD-iqfHK2oBhAgfvBJ0bwbkEP5I7ggL7JK8sA7x4LQT0x2yzlILxokEf7ncQZAmqa_Tps-8bUZfpo470qcucZOpVhyefk/s1600/piglatindeathsquad.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihcKjjlgFIL-BSidmVgBsQ9BN8udJzI17H-m-1-DRBCTBFSyCD-iqfHK2oBhAgfvBJ0bwbkEP5I7ggL7JK8sA7x4LQT0x2yzlILxokEf7ncQZAmqa_Tps-8bUZfpo470qcucZOpVhyefk/s320/piglatindeathsquad.jpg" width="273" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Yeah, yeah, I know, I've been a little negligent in maintaining the TALES' blog current but I have an announcement to make...</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Drum roll please! No wait, fuck the drum roll, give me a blast...</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxgFSOALY9fKotkOx6Cczvsq1s8XyDHnrOPmkWu3SLMD6ZQZYXixjGF1ogjMFdmCbuYge01s5w9vPhIQxzKtLk6DzSTayBeszH8Us8COzop9U_oIP-Jq43tUYXLTklATaKrqdOi-dkh14/s1600/BlastBeat.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="120" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxgFSOALY9fKotkOx6Cczvsq1s8XyDHnrOPmkWu3SLMD6ZQZYXixjGF1ogjMFdmCbuYge01s5w9vPhIQxzKtLk6DzSTayBeszH8Us8COzop9U_oIP-Jq43tUYXLTklATaKrqdOi-dkh14/s400/BlastBeat.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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TALES OF PERVERSION VOLUME 4, CURRENTLY ON THE CUTTING ROOM FLOOR, CUT & PASTE EXTRAVAGANZA IS WHAT I HAVE IN STORE, TITS AND SATAN DRUGS AND SEX ROCK AND ROLL AND GORE!!!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxgFSOALY9fKotkOx6Cczvsq1s8XyDHnrOPmkWu3SLMD6ZQZYXixjGF1ogjMFdmCbuYge01s5w9vPhIQxzKtLk6DzSTayBeszH8Us8COzop9U_oIP-Jq43tUYXLTklATaKrqdOi-dkh14/s1600/BlastBeat.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="97" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxgFSOALY9fKotkOx6Cczvsq1s8XyDHnrOPmkWu3SLMD6ZQZYXixjGF1ogjMFdmCbuYge01s5w9vPhIQxzKtLk6DzSTayBeszH8Us8COzop9U_oIP-Jq43tUYXLTklATaKrqdOi-dkh14/s320/BlastBeat.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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TALES OF PERVERSION ZINE VOLUME 4, OUT SOON!!! MORE OF THE USUAL DEBAUCHED STUPIDITY YOU'VE COME TO KNOW AND LOVE, ONLY BIGGER AND BETTER THAN EVER</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2We3iXCZ0FvetcIm7eA2CeR5m7Na89R2bQMOXY3FiT6rqiiLbDcZlHYJKFyhPzrDpr5voxC31pukJ9tIDFDtXZhuvSuivRBTVYyIPAdRmpoSudXBuk33xFPY0OrALk6JPgjfYjHJxE8A/s1600/tales-inverted.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2We3iXCZ0FvetcIm7eA2CeR5m7Na89R2bQMOXY3FiT6rqiiLbDcZlHYJKFyhPzrDpr5voxC31pukJ9tIDFDtXZhuvSuivRBTVYyIPAdRmpoSudXBuk33xFPY0OrALk6JPgjfYjHJxE8A/s400/tales-inverted.jpg" width="335" /></a></div>
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<br /></div>Lord Frankhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15782661284097098722noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9053398593058477345.post-34115209060225475402012-05-19T12:50:00.002-07:002012-05-20T08:50:17.742-07:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLmrc7cBNLfviQ1b3MTzKYrtGxUKZMWV1VRT4cn9pbadr7OZ5IxItSO3ShfzkbOX2kmQCfzjaMs0z_Yijtih7HoGnPFoW3GXDoB_YbhZEIfECKOcCvJ0j-_VReSjO9Zfw0bNCo0V_UKUs/s1600/tales-inverted.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLmrc7cBNLfviQ1b3MTzKYrtGxUKZMWV1VRT4cn9pbadr7OZ5IxItSO3ShfzkbOX2kmQCfzjaMs0z_Yijtih7HoGnPFoW3GXDoB_YbhZEIfECKOcCvJ0j-_VReSjO9Zfw0bNCo0V_UKUs/s400/tales-inverted.jpg" width="335" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Do you not think that I find it painful that a group of dudes that look like this, got way more action than I ever did in college?</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqp58tyFGkMlSaAmY5s9uIDgmE_nuunVzAwg5m2v2e3m1SGTYF1ceRAGathoOdqW9JDwakZt9oVyA5uvvzpP6xVmCbI0XW8L8YP6GkQvFp6VxKTXSW1WH07fETFTQ1sV4KULgG_aqPklk/s1600/nerds1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="312" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqp58tyFGkMlSaAmY5s9uIDgmE_nuunVzAwg5m2v2e3m1SGTYF1ceRAGathoOdqW9JDwakZt9oVyA5uvvzpP6xVmCbI0XW8L8YP6GkQvFp6VxKTXSW1WH07fETFTQ1sV4KULgG_aqPklk/s400/nerds1.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Today, Comedy Central screened the 1984 classic 'Revenge Of The Nerds'. As I was laying in my bed, nursing a body racked with pain from a near-fatal car accident, my tongue swirling and useless under the effects of 10mg of Diazepam, I seized the chance to take a trip down memory lane and locked in my faltering attention span. Honestly, I had nothing better to do anyways...</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">(B.T.W. ... as for my accident.., nice try Jesus. You thought that this time you finally had me in your nail-pierced clutches. You thought you were going to kill Pig Diamond, but again I dodged the hit that you and the holy ghost put out on my ass. Real G's don't die, we <i>perversify*</i>! Your avenging angels bungled the hit! </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">You gonna see me, player, believe that!)</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">[* perversify= a word used exclusively by Pig Latin from Tales of Perversion Zine which means to pervert]</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">A definitive film <i>tour de force </i>of it's time<i>, </i>this fine piece of American cinema was the quintessential manifesto for persecuted underdogs of all categories. I was roughly about 10 years old when I first viewed this epic masterpiece, but I was already quite aware of my pre-ordained fate to never be able to "blend in" with these walking, talking Shit-Puppets called mankind. Naturally it was my early discovery of my overpowering inability to be "normal", coupled with the lack of desire to be as such, that helped me to totally identify with this timeless feel-good classic. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> 'Nerd' is a term with such a </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">loosely defined description that even satan-worshipping, drug addled, long-hair misanthropes can fall under that umbrella, so I may have well been a nerd, a dork, etc. Regardless of this, Revenge Of The Nerds gave a young, wide-eyed Pig Latin hope that college would be a glorious time of my life. According to the cinematographic vision of director Jeff Kanew, my college years would be a string of debauched, yet formative events such as:</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> -Installing hidden cameras all throughout a women's dormitory for leisure </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">peeping in real time</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">-Panty raids with the old school Mission Impossible theme song as background music</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">-Joining an all Black fraternity</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">-Nudity</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">-Smoking impressively large joints purveyed by someone who is named after a bodily</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> by-product</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">-Sharing living quarters with two total dorks, a Japanese immigrant, a horny 12 year old Aerodynamics genius, a nose-picking scumbag, and a highly effeminate, gay black man with a silver headband </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">-The incognito banging of the school quarterback's girlfriend (which would technically have constituted grounds for rape charges) </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: x-small;">[That particular scene was one of my earliest recurring bits of whacking material]</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">-Going toe to toe with the "beautiful"people in a class struggle that would culminate in my <b>P<i>roto-Prog, Nerd punk, Synth-wave Industrial, Hip-Hop,</i></b> <b>Rock </b>project totally rocking out at the big Homecoming</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTU4rTaEO5_vUzvcPN_2UCn6HnK6_bRlQdXLHrRlEQGyNBgbRbTJPc2vojyhZP0JUMNWCgawniWWN_pHGSiYhBy_PSH2lR8sFirXO5uV0Ly3r9T2VUZ3N5eWjlzeYEzxEvBDWIGuRlgXQ/s1600/nerd2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTU4rTaEO5_vUzvcPN_2UCn6HnK6_bRlQdXLHrRlEQGyNBgbRbTJPc2vojyhZP0JUMNWCgawniWWN_pHGSiYhBy_PSH2lR8sFirXO5uV0Ly3r9T2VUZ3N5eWjlzeYEzxEvBDWIGuRlgXQ/s400/nerd2.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Well, it didn't quite work out that way. As I remember it, setting foot in a college campus did not magically turn a lifetime of social awkwardness into impetus for overcoming the odds ala 80's film standards. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> In retrospect, the college years came and went for me and I did not see a single piece of naked trim in hidden camera footage, I raided not one prized Panty drawer, I did not find a single Black fraternity that would accept my lily-white Cuban ass, I saw no nudity (that I hadn't paid for) accept for my own pathetic masculine frame in the mirror after a shower or during auto-eroticism, and I did not sexually violate a star athlete's upper-crust, blonde cheerleader cum-bucket. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">So, despite my love for his visionary contribution to the artistic zeitgeist, I would like to tell director Jeff Kanew to fucking blow me. Thanks a lot for polluting the mind of an impressionable young lad with the idea that college would be the venue where the oppressed would totally own the Bourgeoisie. You totally </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">distorted the truth of what my stint in the hallways of higher education would really be like... </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I would like to say to Jeff Kanew, fellow Sagittarius and hack director of other works of high cinema such as Gotcha!, Tough Guys, and V.I. Warshawski... </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Vete Pa' La Pinga! Singao!</span> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: xx-small;">Now if you gringos reading this could just find a Cuban to translate it for you, you'd be all set...</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I did smoke several hundred pounds of weed, purveyed by myself.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">And as a side note: Let this be a lesson to all you worthless Scrotum-spawn degenerates reading this. If you aspire to go to college someday, don't! It's not worth it! It is nowhere near the suggestions of ROTN or other college films such as Animal House. And if you're in college currently, drop out! You're wasting time on an education that you will never use, because as soon as you graduate, well... let's just say... Good Luck finding a job fuck wad! I'll see you at your graveyard shift at 7-11 when I come in to buy a couple of Dutch Masters, a quart of Olde English, a tube of Prep' H and a scratch-off game. </span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We can still be roomies if you like, Chico!<br />
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</tbody></table>Lord Frankhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15782661284097098722noreply@blogger.com0