DAZ76

June 29, 2009

Filed under: Comedy — daz76 @ 3:21 pm

I was a Michael Jackson Enabler. Sorry.

As many of you know, I am (was) very close with Michael, even in his last days, so obviously I am totally fucking deved (devastated). Michael and I met at a petting zoo in the late eighties, he was petting a small llama and of course I was petting and studying a goat to see if it was really Satanic. It was just a funny moment and we laughed. We share (shared) a similar high pitched giggle and we bonded over it. He with his llama and me with that fugly goat! What a pair we were.

Later Fondue (I called Michael Fondue and he referred to me as Bookshelf, mutual terms of endearment pause) and I would often explore other outdoor activities such as tandem zip line and once we did frivolous bear hunting where we shot bears (pretty much anything moving on the ground was fair game, but we were primarily interested in killing bears) from helicopters using those heavy duty Apocalypse Now type machine guns. It was fucking amazing, like Tropical Thunder with that guy from Iron man and Less than Zero, but Michael was happy back then. There was never any need to bring his nose and the killing of innocents was soothing relief from life in the mirror. He was comfortable around me without the nose because frankly I didn’t give a shit! Who cares about noses? We were killing everything in sight and hangin’ out on drugs like crazy!

Yes I supplied Michael with huge amounts of drugs. And yes I was the one doing the frequent fast food runs, and yes I often assisted Michael in puking up that fast food a few hours later. It may seem weird to you, but to me, this was normal. We all want to taste things but that doesn’t mean we want them inside us, for life, right? In many ways I played the role of friend, confidant, and health adviser, even though I always thought he was doomed.

Much more will come out about my relationship with Michael Jackson in the next few weeks. Primarily because I was the main meth cook behind the operation. Don’t judge just because of the meth, we were also involved in truly legitimate pharms (pharmaceuticals) and when all is said and done you will see that one of my dear friend Michael’s true legacies will be that of a man who whole-heartedly supported getting fucked up legally, and royally, thus the connection with Prince. Pardon my French but Michael would have hated that statement. But his twee giggle would have belied his acknowledgment of how dark life really can be.

I was also Fondue’s main wig caretaker. I always loved hair and all things furry so it was a natural role for me to fall into. Remember, these were the ET years so everything had to be just so with the hair. Mountains of meth too!

As Michael lay dying I was distracted because I also managed the tivo and Party Monster was on. This was myself and Michael’s (as well as a few other upper echelon hangers on and medics/clerics) fave (favorite) documentary. Oh man we’d get fucked up to that! I burned it on to DVD yesterday so he could check it out over at wherever they are doing the new experiments but he was like, “Chill Bookshelf, I’m getting cut the hell up here”. That’s when it hit me – Am I in the will?

Enough about me. I know you just want an update, some simple facts that have not already been leaked by the press. All I can say is so far, so good. They cut him the hell up and apparently the drug intake was strong. So that’s comforting. My only fear is that not enough alcohol was involved. Alcohol is very cleansing and that was a big routine in our lives as really close friends and confidants.

So hey Fondue – You are going to be awesome now, just stay on the table and don’t worry about the full frontal face smush. Happens all the time. Normal as shit.  Why are they building that huge pyre over there? Why is George Herbert Bush here? Is that a giant owl-like figure (shaped remarkably like Moloch, elite god of human sacrifice most widely known in relation to the “Sacrifice of Innocence” ritual involving the staged murder of African American boys) that they are erecting? Saudi Royalty is arriving… Now someone has procured a large cage full of crying young children like something out of the worst parts of Slumdog. It’s obvious they will be sacrificed. And why the other cage of shackled chimpanzees? What could this signify?

I better go, the ritual will begin soon and rumor is that Ruth Buzzi will start tortu-killing the chimps soon. I never thought I would actually understand the Illuminati, much less be it’s meth dealer/wig stylist but here I am. I saw the 9/11 truth videos and was mildly amused but I can now assure the world that Fondue (Michael, sheesh..) was well aware of what would transpire that fateful day in NYC. In fact Bin Laden was over here the other day fucking off in the pool. He loved the giant water slide! Who doesn’t?

I’ll be fucked if this incredible death exhibition doesn’t make the news. It’s like a Mel Gibson movie out here with all the dripping blood and screaming and sacrificing. If that’s what great Moloch demands then we must hasten to achieve his sacred bidding.

942 words.

RIP Michael Jackson, I’m sorry you died so sick and tired. I feel you.

ET

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June 15, 2009

Why I am Moving to Iran

Filed under: Comedy — daz76 @ 3:50 am
Tags: ,

So as you know I have decided that the time is right to move to Iran. A few friends and relatives have expressed  concern and outright indignation at my decision so I will lay out some of my reasoning for the move here, let you get inside my head on this one.

Top 10 reasons why I’m moving to Iran.

1. Cheap gas

2. Drugs are legal

3. Easier to visit my cousin Borat in Kazakhstan

4. Persian babes

5. No hip hop

6. They invented everything

7. Dudes run the show

8. Get to wear pajamas all the time

9. Beard connoisseur’s paradise

10. Tie: No boring Jesus/Turbans are awesome

Iran pic

June 11, 2009

SBTVC, SRSLY?

Filed under: Comedy — daz76 @ 9:47 pm
Tags:

Dear Street Carnage,

Wow. You guys don’t know when to quit. I thought we were cool de la, but I stand corrected. It’s one thing to expose me as the mastermind that was able to completely undermine an entire website with the touch of a few buttons, or computer keys as it were, but to publish a letter on your blog re. my ceiling fan that I sent you in confidence is just going too far.

What you have done is disrupt my sense of trust in our already admittedly fragile relationship. You know, trust, rust with a t, Rust Never Sleeps… Niel Young… I thought you people were Canadians for crying out loud! I’m hurt more than upset here, miffed is too benign a word to express my emotion yet outraged paints a picture of me all sweaty and red faced and actually I look pretty good today and the AC is on, but I digress.

Like all good Americans I am an extremely litigious person with a predilection for representing myself in court and I don’t want to take it to that level because frankly I’m a bit busy trying to find my pants. Long story short… I was at a party and this one dude came up to me and asked if he could borrow my pants. I felt there must have been a good if not serious reason this guy needed my pants so of course I obliged. Turns out it was a prank to get me out of my pants as revenge for showing up at the party.

Apparently I wasn’t invited, pretty much the opposite of invited actually.  That group of people had recently grown to despise me for making fun of the music they like, the way they look, where thy hang out, ethnicity etc. I was doing it on facebook so I thought they knew I was just fuckin’ around. Actually I meant everything I said! Jokes on them after all even though my pants are probably hanging from a lamp post on east 6th.

So here I am with no pants, no friends, hungry, tired, and alone. And now this. It’s rich. Really, really rich.

Totally as an aside I was thinking about getting off the grid for a while, going back to nature. I had a lot of realizations about life and who I am on my recent spiritual retreat to the cheap district of Cancun. I was at Chili’s with a local transsexual hooker (nice people, the Mexicans) and I thought, “What am I doing with my life?” The answer was clear. I was high on coke hanging out at Chili’s in Mexico with a hooker, a tranny one at that.

I was overcome with joy at my achievement and immediately went and punched the budget guru/vision quest guide I had hired in the kisser. I let out a terse “Ass wanker” and myself and Monique (that’s my hooker’s stage name) got in a cab and flew back to Austin without filling out any paper work what so ever. Homeland Security? More like Homeland Shmeshmurity.

But yeah, no, I’m not sure about the tennis match on Wednesday. I busted out a few of the strings on my racket playing guitar but it should be fine, I’ll text. Also I can’t find some of my other tennis stuff… You guys seen my balls?

Tennis balls copy

Later days, take it sleazy,

Daz76

June 3, 2009

Dear Street Carnage re. My Ceiling Fan

Filed under: Comedy,Uncategorized — daz76 @ 3:58 am

Dear Street Carnage,

I was just looking at the ceiling fan in my living room and I was like, “WoooOOOOoow”.

My ceiling fan

My ceiling fan

I never use it! I’m one of those people who gets bothered by the sound and repetitive swirling shadows associated with ceiling fans. The one I have (Oh shit I have two, there’s also one in the bedroom) just hangs out really, doesn’t even act as a light source. I took the bulb out so I wouldn’t smash it on my head when I dance around to EPMD or Dread Zeppelin. The fan I’m talking about is sort of golden bronze, pretty rusty and the blades are brown wood with that bamboo mesh type business you often see in ceiling fan blades.

But the deal with the fan is that a few months ago I remember putting a few empty beer cans on the blades and gently pushing the blades so the beer cans were swirling around in the air, you should have seen it! That was fucking awesome! I think I left the cans up there for a few days. I told this girl I know that I did that and she got kind of stuck up about it, as if my apartment cares about interior design. Plus it was funny.

To be honest I’d like to just remove the fan and have the negative space, let the coveted third floor 80’s style ghetto apartment vaulted ceilingness shine on through. I guess I keep it because it’s a fun looking thing in a Shakey’s Pizza sort of way, cue banjo music, and besides, I don’t really know how to take it down.

That’s pretty much it, I think I already told you about when I put the Lego Star Wars ships up there. Those things were up forever! I remember every now and then I’d see them out of the corner of my eye (because after a while the stuff up there on the blades kind of becomes invisible, like arm tattoos, not!) and I’d take a little Star Wars moment. Good times, good times.

All that aside I’m doing well, probably going to start looking at the fan in the bedroom soon. Not that I’m going to bed!  I’m just going to check it out for a min, see what’s what. Oh yeah – I was going to say – What if everything went upside down? Say a shift in gravity occurs and we all actually do what Lionel Ritchie did all those years ago on video. If gravity was upside down we would have these crazy swirling blades in the center of the floors all over town! It’s sort of funny to me because I have my wits, but kids and the elderly would be fucked. I know you guys are not Vice, all conscientious and shit so I don’t mean to get political, just a heads up.

Aight, check you later, stay cool my mangonians. Let me know if you guys want to catch a movie or whatever, I just got laid off at the insane asylum so I have some free time.

Cheers from Austin,

Daz76

May 29, 2009

Open letter to Gavin McInnes 2: I’m More Screwed and Chopped than You Will Ever Be

Filed under: Comedy — daz76 @ 4:49 am
Tags: , , , ,

Mr. McInnes,

Yet again you have engaged me in your odd world of off beat whatever and all I can say is that if you step to me and suggest that I don’t have cred in the world of screw then I’m coming back atcha on the net so hard all your BASS belongs to us.

What is my relationship with screw? Oh I don’t know, I live it every day maybe? Have you ever talked to me in person (at my house) because I use a pitch shifter on my voice in general conversation to be screwed. I always lean over a bit too, when sitting (leaning) on the couch for effect. My fucking Buick Le Sabre is hated in my apartment complex and they think I’m a hip hop satanist. This shit is not easy, being all screwed down for life.

I’m all chopped up too. Can you imagine what that’s like on a day to day?

No.

I’m sorry but there is just no way I can mean mug you enough with my virtual e mail grill to express what I’m feeling here my president. Don’t come at me on the screw or else we are going to have a long ass slowed down conversation about it (pause) and to be real I can’t afford the jewelry right now.

SUC one love.

Daz76

May 26, 2009

In my Defense…

Filed under: Comedy — daz76 @ 3:04 am
Tags: , , ,

OK I know what you’re thinking and maybe your right. But then again you may not know the whole story. Let me explain a few things before you waste your vote on my stupid opponents.

Sure I voted yes on the pro child slavery bill, but that doesn’t mean I hate kids, I just think they can be put to better use as factory workers. It’s cheaper than robots, I’m looking out for the consumer on that one. Let’s face it, kids are easily replaced and new business can grow from the “grief culture” induced by the heartbroken parents who lose their children to foreign enslavement. I could see a young business doing gangbusters selling grief oriented “succesory” style inspirational posters. Yes grief is sad, but remember, grief sells.

Yes I also voted to pass legislature that would in effect commit billions of dollars to new research that would allow for cloning of the T Rex (a la Jurassic Park) to be used by the Austin Military (another of my beloved pet projects) as trained attack dinosaurs. I’m about innovation, and I think we need to keep an open mind. Plus, T Rex, that would be cool. Kick some foreign butt with the trained T Rex…

And you’re right, I was caught having an affair with a female impersonator named Eric, but I can explain. Technically we were not caught as we were not keeping our love affair a secret and we all know my wife is a hag. Yes Eric and I are into heavy S and M but I assure you that when I am elected mayor of Austin this will have no influence on my policy. Except that I will loosen the restrictions on how close strip clubs and liquor stores can be to schools.

In defense of my organized horse fighting ring recently exposed by a nosey journalist, I believe the horses really like it. The horses are having fun, blowing off some steam, and sure a few lives are ruined with the high stakes gambling but that shouldn’t be something to be ashamed of. People need to learn that it’s bad to lose. If elected mayor of Austin I promise to legalize horse fighting and will erect an unprecedented horse fighting mega stadium in a fully developed area near the Barton Springs pool. That way we can just chuck the dead (or dying) horses into the pool for easy disposal. I’ve always said I would spend more time on the greenbelt if there was better shopping so once elected I will immediately push this through.

So I hope I have dispelled some of the myth surrounding my private life as we move forward toward the next election and I feel confident you will elect me as your new Mayor. Austin is a pretty OK place, and if we work together to bring new industries (horse fighting, child worker indoctrination centers, dinosaur cloning sector, S and M device manufacturing, grief product specialization, etc.) I’m sure we can um, move forward into the future. Together. Kind of. Because if elected I’m probably going to move to LA with Eric, maybe try modeling or something. Whatever. Vote for me.

April 10, 2009

What’s annoying me today? So glad you asked!

Filed under: Comedy — daz76 @ 6:49 am
Tags: , , , , ,

I have been feeling kind of writey today so I’m just going in, thought I would see what damage could be rendered here.

What’s annoying me today? So glad you asked!

Phones.

First up, your iphone sucks. Talking to someone on an iphone is like talking with loud, clanging high pitched static. It’s painful. It’s not just iphones, it’s googlephones too. Yes it’s amazing that you have Internet at the bar, but unfortunately all you do is look up dumb shit so is it really worth it having a shitty phone for that? Don’t they have other gadgets to go on the internet, and then you could actually get a phone that sounds good? Just saying, it’s a phone fail, you got gypped.

Middle aged women who use rap lingo.

OMG this is the worst, when you see 30/40ish looking women using hip hop lingo in email or on facebook. I guess it’s an ironic take on the whole inherent misogyny of hip hop culture, but ladies, I hate to tell you, it just makes you look like you are trying to impress junior high kids and thugs who think you are the devil. You listened to hot 97 instead of NPR while stuck in traffic? Wooooooow, you really are cool, urban too! BTW, the new way of saying wow is wooooooow. The truth is that you are all still ho’s in the world of hip hop when it boils down, and I’m sorry for that, but that’s real talk. Why don’t you guys (gals) invent some new shit just for yourselves and stop acting like you actually enjoy Little Wayne or Bird Man. If you really do like Little Wayne and really are the true spirit of hip hop in female form I apologize, I’m not referring to you (rolls eyes with great exaggeration).

Paranoid internet people.

These douches are sooo boring. I’m talking about people who act like they are so interesting and attractive that the whole world will want to come over for sex if they put a real picture or name in the internet. What’s hilarious to me about these folks is that in recent times the people that have presented this attitude to me have generally been mostly inoffensive, mildly uninteresting, and in the looks department, not so much. It’s mental illness and I think if you are going to be on the internet put up a real pic. I’m here to tell you, no one wants to stalk you! Again, sorry, but don’t kill the …

Indie rockers.

Oh wait, covered that last time. Did I forgot to mention that they also ruined black metal? Fuckers.

Digital photography.

Ho – lee – shit are people annoying with the photogs! I mean look, sure I love to see you having a good time and all, but WHO CARES? The funny thing is that the only people who care are the other people in the pictures and they are there with you. Why don’t you put down the camera and be in the moment for a minute or two. I guarantee you it’s time better spent than grinning your creepy terror face photo smile, all 900 of your teeth showing, eyes glaring, and no, just because everyone else poses like that it does not make you attractive in the least, quit the opposite. Get the smiling under control and take maybe 2 or 3 photos, that’s all you really need. I mean come on, I believe you, you went to some shitty day party at SXSW or creepy club, I believe you! Damn!

On that note, people seem to think that trendy accessories like bikes or Sparks makes for good photos. Again, no, you are wrong. You’re just another adult playing at being a kid and it’s booooo-riiiing . Take a picture of yourself going to your corporate sellout job hungover at 7:30 in the morning. Now we’re talking,  that’s interesting photography baby!

Theme parties.

What a mega cliche theme parties have become. Certain themes are always fun like a simple costume party, or girls with their boobs out. Nothing wrong there… I’m talking about all this nonsense where a bunch of people who know each other way to well all dress up on variations of a theme and take a bunch of photos (back to the photography) to prove they have friends. Yeah you have friends, a bunch of conformist, boring, uncreative friends who take the record reviews on pitchfork seriously. Did I mention all the boring?

I could go on but I have a few flame wars to start on the internet but I hope this has been helpful, if not slightly hurtful. You gots to break a few eggs if you want to make an omelet as they say, and I’m just doing my part to bring awareness to these oft overlooked issues. Thanks for taking this seriously, I love you all! Not!!

April 6, 2009

I call bullshit on indie rockers

Filed under: Comedy — daz76 @ 4:30 am
Tags: , ,

Everybody always rips on hipsters saying they are lame. Actually, they are cool, and what most people don’t understand is that it’s indie rockers that are the lame ones. I know, I know, I’m not supposed to say that, we’re in Austin, indie music city, blah blah blah. I’m sorry, I call bullshit on indie rockers.

First of all, rock music is commercial as shit from the get go. The indie in indie rock doesn’t mean they are free spirits unshackled by convention, it means they are not on a real record label. And those are the good ones. The worst indie rockers are not signed at all, as independent from anything except maybe myspace. Point being, the use of the term “indie” is false advertising, because they definitely all sound, look, and play the same. I think the term omni rocker would be more appropriate, as in omni-interdependent rockers.

What other bad things have indie rockers done? Oh I don’t know, how about ruining Wu Tang Clan? Remember that?  All of us who were into the first Wu record were mortified when all the white, nerd indie rockers started getting all excited about the Clan. Yeah, we knew already, about two years ago! Total buzzkill. What else, well they tried to ruin Industrial music but couldn’t get past Nine Inch Nails, so aside from a brief intrusion into the world on Japanese Noise industrial is still relatively indie rock free.

Oh yeah, techno. These douche nozzles are currently in the throws of wrecking techno for the rest of us. They hate techno because of it’s ethnic gay roots (even though there is really nothing more gay than singing or strumming, as they do) yet they are jealous of its inherent coolness, so they play it with clunky instruments and heavy speakers and call it indie dance rock. It sucks. It’s bad, omni-interdependent rock vamping the art form of techno and I don’t like it.

Not to harp on the gay issue, but no man should be buying indie rock seven inch singles and actually “enjoying” music. It’s not a gay thing, it’s just a macho thing. Men should not be into music, especially music made by groups of young boys. That’s for girls, indie rock dudes. Also, emoting on a guitar is so masturbatorial it’s hilarious, silly and incredibly fem. Men should only play loud drums or cut records on the turntables, everything else is effeminate except for Motorhead, Cave Dweller, and playing cowbell.

So I think I’ve laid out a pretty good argument against indie rockers and for the sake of brevity I left out some of my lesser complaints such as all the jangling. I’m not trying to hurt any feelings here. No, I’m trying to directly offend the indie rock community so much so that they wake up, smell the coffee, shave their beards, laser remove the tattoos, get new cooler tattoos, grow their hair out like I did, and play some fucking metal.

December 22, 2008

Thinspo 2

It seems my first pro ana (pro anorexia)  thinspirational piece was a hit so I would like to follow up with some thoughts and then I want to discuss the effects of TV on diet.

First off I am not pro anorexia, I am simply trying to not be fat by any means necessary, except exercise or to stop drinking beer. I mean, I walk around a lot, I live on the 3rd floor and I never sit down if I don’t have to. I am standing at the kitchen bar as I write this. So I wanted to add never sit down to my list of techniques to stay thin.

Now here’s where I’m going to come really hard with the seriousness about what will occur over the next week or so.  Yes I’m talking about the holidays. Not the cool ones like Kwanzaa or  Hanukkah. No, I’m talking about mind numbingly stupid Christmas. First off there is no god and Jesus never existed. Sorry, but it’s true. I’m not here to talk religion though, I’m here to talk weight loss, but knowing the whole premise of the thing is ridiculous to begin with might help in resisting the many and varied temptations that the season brings.

Remember, food is our enemy and should never be considered comforting. If you take some sort of “comfort” in food you’re probably already fucked and I doubt I can help you. Food exists for only two reasons. 1st so that we don’t die and 2nd to make us fat. So it’s basically a razor’s edge- a balance between life and chubbiness. I choose life begrudgingly in this case because I am trying to be thin and all my heartbreak has worn off and I’m back to simply deciding whimsically who I will hook it up with at any given moment. Without the luxury of heartbreak, dieting becomes that much more difficult.

So over the next week all the food freaks are going to start plying you with all kinds of seemingly delectable treats. But remember that the people who are pushing the food on you want you to be fat, because it will make them feel better for not looking good in the club anymore. They want you to suffer the consequences of over indulging- funny looks at Beauty Bar and no tight pants. I swear if I couldn’t wear my tight pants in the disco I’d be fucking outraged! Keep that in mind.

Back to this notion of comfort food. What’s so comfortable about indigestion and bloating? Collective belching and farting? Yuck, count me out. I say indulge your rebellious side by not going along with the gastronomic clo-fo and just sit back and enjoy how infuriating it is to all your relatives that you have chosen instead to be thin over gassy. They will be so pissed and hopefully that will provide you with even more thinspo. Nothing more satisfying than quietly annoying friends and family with your slim silhouette.

Lastly re. the holidays I would like to address the concept that it’s normal or OK to overindulge just because it’s Christmas. No, it’s not. Again that’s just corporate propaganda so you will buy more boxed stuffing  and other useless shit at the discount store. Overindulgence is always just that, it’s obnoxious and gluttonous so just don’t do it. Plus, you’ll get fat and that is what we are not talking about doing here.

Lastly I want to talk about TV. I firmly believe that watching TV greatly contributes to not only mental decay, but weight gain. The only time I ever want a BBQ Chick’n Popper Crispy Dunker or whatever is when the TV is on. It’s designed to keep you craving gross highly fattening junk food and you don’t have to look far to see the amazing effects it has on the American population. I just saw two really interesting studies published in the last few weeks. One claimed that less young people are watching TV. I believe it because the internet and going out  is way better! The other claimed that unhappy people watch more TV. I believe that too because it’s mostly so dark and boring. I put my TV away (as in away in the closet) several months ago and I can safely say that the quality of my life has improved greatly. I feel smarter not knowing all the stupid shit they want me to believe I need to  know about. It’s so repetitive and dull and aside from Sarah Silverman’s beautiful breasts, I mean eyes, I find watching TV on any kind of schedule to be the domain of the incredibly boring, and usually corpulent. You put 2 and 2 together and it does not add up to thin.

I’m going to go off on TV culture and addicts soon but I mainly wanted to draw the parallel to weight gain and heavy TV watching. They don’t say couch banana, they said couch potato, and they said it for a reason. When you sit around watching TV all the time you begin to take the shape of a Russet potato, and my friends, if you are looking for thinspiration I just don’t know what other motivation I can give beside the image of a lethargic, misshapen human sitting alone in the TV’s glow, eating brownies while watching a McDonald’s commercial about ice cream and rubbery meat. TV is Death Culture’s version of Twitter, soooo not conducive to losing weight and in my humble opinion it is to be avoided at all costs. Try it, I dare you. Most people are so conditioned to revere the TV that they can’t even conceive of turning it off for a week, but that’s middle America for you!

Let me recap. Never sit down if you can avoid it. Lay down only to sleep or get freaky, but that too can be done standing up and then it kind of becomes like dancing or a sexual performance art (thinning!!!). Beware of your relatives at the holidays. They want you fat so they don’t feel fat – Don’t give in to the urge to over indulge just because the shopping mall told you too. And lastly, do your body and your mind a favor and quit TV. I shit you not I have been living this lifestyle for some time now and I am back to a size 32 Levi, down from a 33. That’s not my disco pants size though, those are like a 30.

Be strong! Fight food! Remember, food is to be looked at with a steely and determined glaze in your eye. Sorry I said glaze. Food is primarily for babies and the elderly, because who cares if they are fat, right? We, however have more primordial concerns (like hooking it up in the disco, looking good at Emo’s, getting our own reality show etc.) so I wish every one luck in the face of the disgusting feasting adversity, and seriously, if you want to squash your hunger pangs just look around the table at the gluttony and gorging in effect. Drool and slime dripping off their faces as they stuff themselves with fat and lard and cake. Three words:

Gross. Fuck that.

Good luck in the coming days, that is if you are lucky or rich enough to participate. Look around in this season of “merryment” (yeah right, that is if you are not sick, lonely, broke, etc.) and think about what I have said. Ask yourself how many stupid conversations revolve around Geraldo Rivera and Oprah. Watch the culinary orgy unfold around you but know you are above it, you can overcome!!

December 15, 2008

Haircut / Tough Girls

I know it’s been a while since I last blogged, I just haven’t been feeling very bloggy. I don’t feel bloggy now, either. I’m doing this out of some sense of obligation… Just as some are compelled to drink, I am compelled to blog. And drink, so here we go.

So what’s new. I’m getting my hair cut. I know, I know, it’s just getting glorious. I’ve achieved a sort of late 70’s David Lee Roth look which is at times pretty awesome. The rest of the time it sucks. I have no peripheral vision, It takes forever to dry which in turn makes me wash it less resulting in more of a stringy Kurt Cobain kind of vibe. Not cool! I have always had an aversion to getting my hair professionally cut, ever since I was a kid. I am intrinsically defiant so just feeling pressured  or obligated to do it would piss me right off. There was even a time when I said fuck it completely and let my hair grow into dreads. At this point I am so annoyed by my long hair that I am tempted to get dreads again, even though I am opposed to Rastafarian religious beliefs. I do however sympathize with some of their social and cultural views (not the gay hating ones) and whether we like it or not I am, deep inside, a natty, Congo bongo I dread straight from Yard. If you don’t know what that means there are plenty of Patois guides on the Internet that you can refer to. Or should I say “reefer” to… Sorry. Oh OK, it means that deep inside I am a dread locked rasta who in essence is the spirit of an African drum and I want to beat down Babylon and roam the open country with no police, curfews, or 3 am road blocks, and I am from Jamaica. Seen? I am actually from Ireland, which not unlike Jamaica is a small island with a tumultuous political past and we island people just sort of relate to each other. It’s the same with Bermudians, I feel like I know them.

But I digress… No I will not grow dreads again, although I feel like it. I’m going to have a “consultation” with a “stylist” and I will explain to her (I hope it’s a her) that I am incredibly low maintenance (lazy) when it comes to things like hair yet I want to look somewhat cool. I deferred to a friend of mine about what I should do, I asked her if I should go for 80’s skateboarder hair or 70’s surfer guy hair. She simply replied “Gross”. I found that confusing because I thought everyone loved surfer hair. I will not get any type of cut that involves having to use gel. There will be no defying of gravity when it comes to my head. No faux-hawks, no buzz cuts, nothing metro sexual. I want a straight up dude hairstyle that matches my Chuck Taylor’s and Levi’s. What will happen? I’m nervous… Not to mention I have a couple of big DJ gigs coming up soon and I don’t want to look like a jerk with a shitty hair cut, now do I?

In regards to affairs of the heart (because I know that’s what you really like reading about) I am still pining for the far away girl with black hair who doesn’t even call me anymore. It’s OK though, because I have been able to double up, actually triple up on the pining because there have been a few other distractions lately… A few very pretty distractions of the bad ass tattooed variety. One of the girls I’m secretly crushing on right now used to hate me, but a failed attempt at living in NYC seems to have humbled her formerly charged and anti-me disposition. I have only seen her once since she came back and she was sporting a real “fuck you mom and dad” type tattoo. A good sign, because I am the ultimate “fuck you mom and dad” type of guy to bring home. You see, women love pissing off their parents. When, as a guy, one realizes this simple truth, the path to a decent left behind thong collection becomes more clear. The only catch with her though, is that I have not seen her drunk yet. That was part of the problem in the past, and I wonder if cold, hard New York City kicked the nasty drunk out of her too… I’ll let you know if/when I find out. She’s fucking cute!!

The other girl… This one is good too because yet again I am able to apply my uncanny intuition and insight into female psychology and behavior. As some may know, I have a certain thing for strong women. I mean physically strong women. Like Zena Warrior Princess mixed up with some Robert Crumb style fetishism if you know of what I speak…

So I dig tough chicks with muscles, tattoos, bad attitudes and pretty faces. Can you blame me? Here’s the thing though, I am so not a submissive. I never really understood why I was so attracted to these bad girls that are stereotypically considered man eating, dominatrix type ball breakers. I don’t want to call anyone “Mistress” or act like a dog or anything, although I might indulge in some low level toe licking if it comes up. I one time had a woman command me to get on my knees (it seemed that she thought I wanted to be dominated or something) and I was like, “Fuck off”. Anyway, where am I going with this? Let me get back on track…

So, I like tough, bad ass bitches but I am not submissive is the conclusion I came to. It seemed like a difficult situation to rectify, in terms of some serious making out. But then, like a lighting strike something occurred to me while having a phone conversation with such a woman as I have described. She’s a friend and we have worked together in the past. She’s about 6 feet in heels and sports a pair of mega guns (biceps) and could easily crush a human scull with her thighs. She has a chest tattoo and a few others… She’s a real live roller queen who takes no shit from anyone, ever. She is also very funny and ultimately a sweet heart, in the way some pit bulls can be funny sweet hearts.

So we were talking about some of her friends relationships and it dawned on me that just because a woman is tough does not immediately make her a natural dominant. In fact, many of these tough women are secretly lusting to be dominated, to submit. I’m talking sex here, not simple mind games, although that’s part of it. I nearly hit my head on the ceiling when I realized that I wanted to be the dominant one! Now don’t get me wrong, I know for a fact that some of those women seriously get a thrill out of beating the shit out of some wimpy guy while wearing stilettos, and I’m not suggesting that women are naturally more submissive than men. This is really more a comment about my own sexual psychology than theirs.

It’s very similar to the old stereotype of men, rich macho business men in positions of power and great authority, that these are the type of men who want the services of a Dominatrix. Could it be similar with the tough chicks? At the end of the day I think a lot of women really do like to feel pretty, beautiful, soft, good smelling. Not all, obviously, but what I discovered is that just because she’s hell on wheels and a muscular punk rock bruiser doesn’t mean that she doesn’t crave to be, how can I say this politely… Taken.

Here’s where it gets good… Based on my revelation that I was inherently not submissive, possibly kind of the opposite, and that many tough chicks are actually pussy cats, and given that I am attracted to tough chicks, I decided to put an experiment into action.

I was loft sitting in San Antonio last week and decided to invite my pretty, tattooed friend out for a night of downtown SA fun. I live in Austin but I fucking love San Antonio, especially downtown. She was up for it and we made plans for her to come over and hang out. FYI, I will not talk about actual sex here, just psychology. A gentleman doesn’t kiss and tell and I abide by that rule, most of the time, but don’t worry it’s still pretty juicy… I had cleverly stocked up on beer and hard liquor at the place, and I knew we would at some point hit up my favorite bar in SA, Logan’s, where many a wine skin is drained and the music has cojones. Basically my strategy was  to get her wasted, or somewhere in the vicinity of wasted. That’s logical and pretty much step 1 on any date. I knew she had been stressed out at work and needed some distraction so the night  would be easy, fun, and hopefully get a bit kinky at some point.

Long story short, we had a great night. Note to guys – It’s not easy getting a roller girl drunk, pace yourself, trust me on this one. So while there was no leather mask, whips or verbal abuse I can safely say that with some gentle yet firm direction I saw a different side to my, for all intensive purposes, terrifying yet very atractive female friend. Everyone knows that she is hot, but I’m here to tell you she is beautiful and has a warm soft voice that is obviously useless at derby practice or while trying to score drinks at Jackalope. I don’t want to imply that there was some big porno sex scene because there wasn’t. Well not exactly, but again my lips are sealed. In my one concession to something close to submission, I asked her (told her) to flex for me. She did. Insert cartoon “Boing!” sound effect here.

There you have it. In summary, ladies, don’t be afraid to be tough! Some of us bros love it!! Also, guys, just because she’s tough doesn’t mean that she doesn’t want you to take charge and put the smack down on that ass, Mexican wrestler style. Also guys, I urge caution if you choose to experiment with this like I did – you can and probably will get seriously hurt, so take it easy and have an escape route planned. This is not a joke, do not fuck around with tough chicks, especially roller girls because they will kill you and have their friends help them cover up the murder. This shit is real!  All too real, but kind of awesome and sexy and I’m here to tell you that with a little effort and a lot of booze it is very possible to have your Zena cake and eat it too.

* This post highly influenced by the song “Roller Queen” by the Lifters. They fucking rock right out of south Austin Texas.. You can find them on myspace here:

http://www.myspace.com/thelifters

And as always, much respect to:

www.TXRD.com

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