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The Darkest Hour on the Western Front
Killer, intruder, homicidal man
If you see me coming run as fast as you can
Blood-thirsty demon who’s stalking the street
I hack up my victims like pieces of meat
Blood-thirsty demon, sinister fiend
Bludgeonous slaughter’s my evil deed
My hammer’s a cold piece of blood-lethal steel
I grin while you writhe with the pain that I deal
Swinging the hammer, I hack through their heads
Deviant defilers, you’re next to be dead
I unleash my hammer with sadistic intent
Pounding, surrounding, slamming through your head
Yeah!
Bodies convulse in agony, and pain
I mangle their face till no features remain
A blade for the butchering, I cut them to shreds
First take out the organs, then cut off the head
The remains of flesh now sop under my feet
One more bloody massacre, the murder’s complete
I seek to dismember, a sadist fiend
Bloodbath’s my way of getting clean
I lurk in the alley wait for the kill
I have no remorse for the blood that I spill
A merciless butcher who lives underground
I’m out to destroy and I will cut you down
I see you and I’m waiting for Black Friday
Turn me loose!
I’m out to destroy you and I will cut you down
It’s Black Friday, paint the devil on the wall
This is a real fast one, guys
My life’s on time
But again my sense is late
Feel a mite unsteady
But still I have to play
Six to one the odds
And we have the highest stakes
And once again I gamble with my very life today
Highly polished metal
The oil makes it gleam
Fill the terror chamber
Your mind begins to scream
Your life is like a trigger
Never trouble till you’re squeezed
Now you crack a smile
As you give the gun a tease
Place the pistol down
Now give the gun a spin
Soon as the spinning stops
Oh no, the game starts in
A hateful way of vengeance
A bit of playful sin
Load another bullet
Now the second round begins
A couple grains of powder
A couple grams of lead
A touch against the trigger
A touch inside the head
Take another drink and Raise the last bets
Think about my last words
They might be what I just said
A click comes from the hammer
That couldn’t drive a nail
Sense the numbing cold blue
Or the red of Hades’ grill
A fraction of a second
Do you lose, or maybe still
Pass it to the left
And collect your mighty kill
Add another bullet
The third round begins
Soon as the spinning stops
Oh no, the game starts in
Please, no I.O.U.’s
No markers for death
You, come on, next victim, your turn to die.
There really is no point to this post. I’m just trying to get used to a life as a sober person with friends. I’ve been reading a history of the Somme, drinking white wine, with Peace Sells repeating over and over. And thinking about US grand strategy regarding Afghanistan. Not a good way to start off a life of sobriety.
But Fuck it. Hunter Thompson, Hemingway, and Safire are dead. Is there really a point to anything anymore?
Does anybody know how many cameras the networks use to cover a baseball game, or basketball, or football?
Like 10? Maybe 20. And who controls how the images get broadcast? The commentators? Of course not. Probably a producer for CBS sports or ESPN or whatever, right?
Holmes. Could you imagine a situation where theoretically your favorite composer was Beethoven (like Little Alex) and theoretically scientists at Harvard were able to bring him back to life as a young man. And he decided to give a concert. The 9th Symphony. Which he would personally conduct.
Then Barack informed you that you had been chosen to here this. You and a select few of your friends and relatives. Your choice. No more than 50 people. The whole ordeal to take place at the government’s expense at a time and place of your choosing.
Nice, right? One catch. Larry King is gonna narrate the whole thing for broadcast live. And he is gonna be next to YOU for the entire performance.
This is exactly what it is like for me to watch hot laps during Formula 1 qualifying. I’ve tried rewinding and turning off the sound, but then I can’t hear the engines. I would give anything to make these motherfuckers shut up.
Would you please shut up. You of all people should know. This is Kimi Raikkonen and Fernando Alonso. The people who watch F1 have no need for your input. They are experts. Trust me. SHUT THE FUCK UP!!!!
Every night my first prayer is that Steve Matchett dies. It starts like this: Die, Steve, Die. I wish you no harm. I don’t want it to be painful. I just wish you didn’t exist. You are a fat ass who could never fit into a race car. You are an idiot. And nobody wants to listen to you. Get a blog. Or die. Please. I’m begging you. Just STFU.
…
What a weekend to keep my mind off of other things. If you still don’t think racing isn’t important and race car drivers aren’t worth the money they are paid (which is more than any other athletes) – take a look at Scott Sharp’s 6.2 second accident at Petit Lemans in Atlanta on Thursday. I just saw the tape. Apparently he walked away without a scratch. That’s what I am talking about.
And that was just Acura in the second division.
1000 miles. 10 hours. The Germans versus the French in the battle of the diesels. Peugeot vs. Audi.
Where? Georgia in the rain.
It brings tears to my eyes.
Maybe someday Americans will be able to compete in this race.
…
So McNish and Audi with the (R12s?) won last year and for like 9 years running. peugeot started last year with one car as a warm up for Le Mans (France, 24 heures). Which they won this year against the new Audi R15.
This year at Road Atlanta Peugeot got both pole and the front row. Audi second row. Rolling green start in the rain. Something told me it was gonna be special. So I paused the DVR. Then cued up Megadeth: Peace Sells But Who’s Buying track 8: My Last Words. Then hit the forward button which causes slo-mo on the recording (live to me). Very Nice. Audi passed inside of the first three turns. Let’s see how the next ten hours go.
That’s it. I’m ready to kill.
I was trying to enjoy my racing and obsess about the bitches in my life but at 24 minutes and 17 seconds into last light’s Nightline I realized… yeah.
Like Diamond Dave used to say: It’s all over but the shouting. I’ve come to take what’s mine.
Richard Clarke is off his nut. Compromised. Turned by the State. Living on ABC’s consultant fee (nice).
Are you fucking kidding me. Richard Clarke. Up against the wall.
Okay. He didn’t say it in the live version. Fair Warning was always a kick ass album.
I’ve left the reservation
[Note to Cythia McFadden: I hope you get ass-raped by one of Enron's natural gas pipes, you corporate whore. Just for that last comment. "there's frugal, and then there is yucky." WTF. You do realize you are a network anchor? I mean, whore.]
I was really hoping to put Season 3, Episode 6: The Gang Solves the North Korean Crisis up, but these guys have a pretty good lockdown on youtube. So this is all I gots. My new favorite show. It’s Always Sunny In Philadelphia.
Don’t judge, don’t judge based on 2 minutes. Or 20 minutes. This is some quality humor. You need at least 4 episodes before it might grow on you.
A movie of your choice in the theater of your choice in the Boston area, for the first person who can identify the make and model of this tank. If I knew the make and model I wouldn’t be asking the question, so it may take me some time to verify.
Mad Men vs. Sons of Anarchy
It’s all about poor-drawing, lame-network period dramas trying to out-Soprano each other. Mad Men is boring as fuck no matter what the critics say. Season 3 is just weird and stupid. Practically unwatchable in the American “ad” format. Hahaha. The only way I will stick with season 4 is if they make Campbell drown in a vat of bleach next episode. Pretentious garbage. Anybody that liked this show after season1 should be executed. Does John Hamm’s son have apersonality or is he a robot. What’s with the daughter’s character? Total bullshit… I take that all back. Just kill Mark Weiner. $9 million dollars for next season. Yeah. Money well spent. I could see if it was Tom Brady. Oh… wait. Nevermind. I mean. do the math. The show has anaudience of 2 million (lame by network standards). So it depends on who is spending the money. If it is the peeps investing in the DVD market selling all the winners in my parents’ age bracket fine. If this is the advertisers, you are out of your effing mind. Anybody that has AMC has TIVO or DVR and doesn’t watch ads.
Honestly. I watch only good stuff, but I am getting swamped. And I never watch ads. I either DVR or download from p-2-p guerilla sites. It is people like me that actually get people to watch and buy shit they would never have heard of. But really, it is too much. Either the quality gets better, or incomes for the millions of washed up actors goes down. It’s zero sum game. The economy is plateauing or dead, so you are all fucked. Even the directors. Only the kings of the production world will survive. If they have protection. And by protection I don’t mean Israeli security. I mean wise consult.
The quality is getting much better. But being spread strangely. Look at the FX channel. It’s Sunny Everyday in Philadelphia vs. The Sarah Silverman show on Comedy central. Reno 911. How can the advertising busines deal with this strategically? They can’t. Their bosses have to consolidate and make it a William Safire George Orwell world or we all starve.
Sons of Anarchy is total formula, but highly entertaining. The main guy actually looks like a gorilla. What is that all about ?
But the Jerky Jerk-man episode (I think season one, episode 4) crossed all boundaries. I love how these shows try to portray totally career psychopathic looneys as family purpose driven and morally conflicted.
“Jacks” is awesome. The complete douche. Kills John Hamm’s character. Note to John Hamm: bank your money. You will always be whatsisname on a show nobody will remember, but Vanity Fair yapped about being cool in the issue with Michael Jackson on the cover. It’s over. Your character’s wife is the most boring television ever. She has never given me a boner. Maybe there is somebody else out there who has had a different experience. The comparisons to other famous actresses are absurd. The woman (the character) is dull and stupid. Even the crazy part is lame. [note: I have no reason to not believe the actress is just as dull and stupid - that's one possible reason the character is so good at being so dull and stupid]
Sons of Anarchy wins by a score of 6-to-1. Jemma (Sagal) runs up the points.
Now. Christina Hendricks vs. Katey Sagal (aka Peggy Bundy; 249 episodes “married with Children). We need some handicapping. Katey is 55.
I’m proud to admit my own life is so dull and stupid that I only watch every week to maybe see Christina Hendricks’ chest. That woman likes cheeseburgers.
Tune in for the next episode as Tone Loc would say. Don’t get close. This cut is on fire.
[Okay, I'm going to try this one more time. Maybe this time JR's delicate sensibilities won't be offended.]
I been saying to Homey, if we can’t submit thal as Exhibit “A” or get GB to do some hand-stand push ups for the ladies, then we’re going to have to toss some cool terminology around in the proposal — something like “progressive redistribution of wealth” or “lagomorph-to-monkey telekinetic interface protocol optimization studies directed toward green energy development and jobs creation” or “equal protection under the law for bald-headed fucks who have the audacity to leverage an embarrassing modernism such as ‘man up’ off a poorly formed homage to HST’s classic quote about ‘good men dying like dogs…’ “.
I got’s a sense of humor. Just as much as Ozzy and his fire hose on the Sunset Strip the other night. Not a commodeian?!? How dare you, sir! I won’t take this lying down. My union representatives shill be informed in due coarse.
I am alone in this godforsaken douchebag wilderness. But at least I can count on EE to soon tell me that the following video is just another scam perpetrated by right wing agents in opposition to the counterrevolution. (Only thal can save us now.)
“Let me make sure there’s a code for it, okay?”
Obama and a bunch of incompetent military guys killed Monti. Medal of Honor. Fine. But at least tell the whole story. The guy he “saved” by somehow being blasted by an RPG on his third attempt died along with a perfectly healthy medic when the cable snapped on the “rescuing” helicopter. The arty he was calling in came a little late. Probably because he wasn’t on the horn. Because he was too busy playing Rambo. But it would never have happened if they weren’t there in the first place.
16-man infantry patrols in that part of the world? Good luck with that idiocy. The Soviets tried it with APCs. How many fucking times do you have to fail before you realize?
And he wasn’t a sergeant. He was awarded that posthumously. I saw his dad in a lengthy interview on CNN yesterday. Whatever.
His mother obviously understands what a farce this is. Interview her. What kind of a sick fuck and a sick country makes a poor woman like that get on stage to accept an award for her dead son. and calls it an honor.
Here is the unvarnished truth: 10th Mountain is an elite division. It is light infantry maybe one step down from the 173rd Airborne Brigade on the badness scale. These guys were basically special forces. This particular squad was probably the cream of the crop. They were reportedly (by Obama) on an intelligence patrol. And the Taliban absolutely smacked them. So put two and two together.
No medal of honor for these Guinea motherfuckers. And fuck their families, too. And all the Afghan civilians. And fucking everybody.
http://www.nytimes.com/2009/09/18/world/asia/18afghan.html?_r=1&hp
How many more times?
Part II
Yeah, Nudge, a woman is driving me batshit crazy. That’s never happened to anybody including me. I must be special.
I want some too
I’ll take you to a movie, Nudge.
But it has to be Zombieland.
I know. Creepy. That’s just how I roll. Like Carmela Soprano.
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