Your WTF Moment for Today

Maybe you have already had yer "what the fuck?" moment for today...sorry if I'm adding to the pile but that particular in-tray was made for over-flowin' as long as the world continues its game of suck and blowin'.

Anyweird, if one is interested in history, one knows the name Josef Mengele. According to the oh so reliable wiki, the DJ Doctor of Death had a son who had a son. The grandson has a youtube channel where he chronicles his experiences with being a fattie. Let the Battle of the Bulge jokes begin, sometimes history charts itself with such finesse and irony that jokes are not only appreciated, they are a solid given.

I'm not gonna link to his youtube channel, get on the googletreadmill yourself, do a finger sprint and cross the finish line into the happy go lucky, fit and trim world of the spawn of Mengele. Unlike his grandpappy after the war, Mengele v3.0 is quite easy to find. But the find makes me personally uneasy, and a tad kinda queasy.

The comment section is the best.

I think "your grandpa sucks." was my favourite.

currently listening to: L'Affaire Dumoutier, The Box

Thinking Inside the Box

How great is this vid? How great is this song? How great are French Canadian accents? How great is the crazy dude who, on his way to a bank heist with his other Reservoir Dog palsy-walsies, somehow got lost and ended up somewhere in rural Quebec? Mon dieu!

The police chief dude is pretty rite-on as well. He's got that great combo of beard, 'stache, and cascading waterfall hair that one would expect a man of great judicial power to have. Too bad half that sandwich he was scarfin' down in the police car ended up in said beard. Dude looks like Godley from Godley and Cream. Or does he look like Cream? Which one is which? Shit man, who knows?



Is this Godley, or is it Cream...and really does anybody care anymore? It makes me wanna CRY!!!!


This man cracked open two cases in one day, a murder case and a Celine Dion CD case...HERO!!!


currently listening to: Rene Simard on youtube ("L'Oiseau")

"It's Been A Long Time Since I Rock 'N Rolled"

Classic. Thanks Robert Plant for the lyric...perfectly sums up the state of my blogging habits at the moment. You can always count on Zep cuz they give/gave good lyric. My sixth grade teacher was no fool...he pulled out "Stairway" to give us an exercise in recognizing verbs, nouns, adjectives, and adverbs. I have fond memories of the kid who drank glue asking, "Teacher, what's a hedgerow?" Holy fuck, I just realized that an eon later I still don't fuckin' know. But props to Plant for gettin' us all thinking. It may have been the last time the glue-drinker could conjure up thought...soon enough he had progressed to sniffing it. Classic.

The glue kid's best friend (besides that damn cow on the Elmer's), was this miracle of genetics, that when reading aloud in biology pronounced "organism" as "orgasm". Seriously. Little dude didn't realize what he was saying. Years later I figured out why the teacher was smirking, and it creeped me out that the effin' perv didn't bother to correct him. Fuckin' biology teachers, peeking into microscopes by day, peeking into college dorm windows by night. Not so classic.

You know what's classic? This is random but I just watched the original "The Postman Always Rings Twice". The embodiment of classic is Lana Turner in that fetch, fetch, fetching white getup that starts up one of the best pussy whips in cinema history. Poor John Garfield's character, brother didn't stand a chance.



At first glance, you are saying, "What is UP with that headgear, Lana?" I mean, who other, than Madame the puppet rocks that sort of look effectively?

Lana, baby. Lana.

In tribute to Lana, here is one fabulous Ewe-Toobe featuring the legendary (as in "WHO??") Eric Root. Lana's personal hair stylist, as well as stylist to many other kings and queens of the wood we call Holly.

It's....you guessed it...classic.



Currently listening to: Eric Root confessing that Lana herself killed Stompanato, not her daughter, Cheryl...WHOAH!!!

Yeah, Yeah, I Know...

F to the U to the C to the K...

FUCK!

I know...I've been away far too long, and reneging bigtime on my vow to blog to the max.

'Stead I've blogged to the min, and that's even overestimating, isn't it?

I deserve a big kick in the arse, a kick delivered by a leg with a foot sharp and dangerous strapped in tight by a "Joan Crawford Fuck Me Platform Shoe".

In fact, I think I deserve the whole Crawford treatment, complete with the "no wire hangers" action.

"Oh Mommie Dearest, I'll try to blog more often!"




Much love to Allan, Faerie, and Froggie!

Currently listening to: The Cars, Best Of

"Hey Mr. DJ, Put these Handcuffs On..."

I finally seized those reins of terror and yanked and pulled until I steered them back in the right direction. The direction that leads to the land of peace and quiet. Serenity City, sweetheart, let me move back in and let's get reacquainted.

Let's take a look at Serenity City's landscape shall we?

You will immediately notice there is no hint of DJs in either sight or in sound. They have all been exiled to the land of Disrespect and Inconsideration, keeping the Jackhammers At Dawn company. The official newspaper of this land is called "The Daily Asshole", and trust me, in a place like this they never, ever run out of stories.

But in Serenity City, news of the world is carried by a whisper, by a flutter of butterfly wings or by a gentle sound source of one's own choosing.

A slow-leak sigh of sheer heaven.

While my guitar gently sleeps...so now can I.

This all may not make much sense to y'all.

So in plain English:

The fucking DJ down the hall was shut down. Put the needle on the record. Put the pen on the $300 noise disturbance ticket.

Last nite a DJ left my life...YAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Currently listening to: a slow-leak sigh of sheer heaven

In Space No One Can Hear You (Ibanez) Tube Scream(er)

--And you'll believe you're loving the alien
(Believing the strangest things, loving the alien)
--Bowie, "Loving the Alien", from "Tonight", released 1984

Yes David. I'm loving the Alien. Perhaps not the one you had in mind, but one definitely worthy of the modern love. I love, have loved, and will love until the end of my days and daze, this Ridley Scott masterpiece. Flawless. Gimme gimme a nasty, beastly, acid spewing xenomorph and a reason to say the name Yaphet Kotto out loud a few times.

Yaphet Kotto, as "Parker". Yaphet Kotto. Yaphet Kotto. Say it! It's fun! Yaphet is hard-rockin' the Mike Reno of Loverboy headband action!

Thanks to Alien, I like many other sci-fi geeks, became fascinated with H.R. Giger, the dude who designed the nasty beast. I think folk who count themselves as fans of the great man should be called "GigerCounters".

Gigercounters come from all walks of life, but I have discovered that a great many of them of are guitar players. A particular sort of guitar player. The precious sort. The hammer ons and pull offs and practicing scales for three hours type of guitar player. A bachelor type of dude who lives in a basement apartment, listens to technical players like Malmsteen, and has framed Giger prints on his wall. Maybe an Escher print. Definitely a print of a Patrick Nagel lady.


Patrick Nagel, Rio album cover for Duran Duran, 1982

Poor Patrick Nagel. Brother did a 15 minute celebrity aerobic workout for charity, went to his car, got in, and had a heart attack. He was 38.

But back to Giger. It came as no surprise that the famous "Giger Aesthetic" would inevitably find itself expressed in the world of things six-string.

Thanks Ibanez, for bringing that to task.



currently listening to: Roller Boogie, Original Sdtk

New Post This Weekend...Stand by

man...so much for resolutions...will write this weekend...