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Sorry Fellas, It’s Courtney Love Week. Mess with the Best, Become Hole.
She could give a fuck about Tarawa. I could give a fuck about her. She rocks a mean guitar. Fucking skinny little junky cunt.
This is for My Friend Holmes, a Man quite well versed in Rock’n'Roll, This is for you. I know Father’s Day is well off, but, if I were your son, I’d be saving up for a Clash Boxset [Story about my dad and Legos and and Frank Lloyd Wright (Right?) to follow)]
It’s not about about Holmes. I mean, part of it is. Holmes has taught me ten times what I’ve seen in myself. It’s recursive….. No fuck this. I’m not being drawn into this. Katya is enough. Holmes is my personal trainer and tutor on all things. It’s private. Fuck off. When I’m dead he can write the book. He has full rights. I’m sayin that now.
Holmes has full rights to my life. I said it again.
[Don't worry. I keep a daily Diary. Passwords. Yes. You'll get it. Oh Joy]
Ceeuumplleeeaate!!! Control!
I have not listened to the Clash in ages. I found the tapes cleaning out the basement after the Great Flood of 2010. I’ve been looking for these. especially this one.
Give Them Enough Rope.
I’ve been praying for this one for years. I found it The first tune is Safe European Home. I’m sober for 5 days. Jacked on Coffee. The tape is bent it starts with abang than distorts and wobbles for ten seconds. Then the Clask kick in. And it is better than 10 hits of X. The car takes off. No black SUV can run up on a yellow beetle. The windows are sealed, douchebag. All this Clash is being sucked right into my brain. Up me nose… You wanna race me? ME?
I won
There is nothing better than Rock’n'Roll. Including Pussy. Keith understood this early. Burroughs never got this cuz he wuz a fag and thought smack was the answer….
Smack’s not bad. In most cases better than pussy. But it is nonetheless artificial.
The Clash and the Stones and Zep are Timeless.
Black and Blue Saturday…. mmmm…. I have nothing to say. the music speaks.
There are contemporaries. I don’t call the shots on them. what i mention I love. Lady Gaga. Rihanna. Lil Wayne. But I think these dudes and dudettes will last.
Them crooked Vultues.
Queens. It’s hard to say… the others. I watch SNL almost every week. These other bands are a waste of everybody’s time. Rock’n'Roll is dead.
The last bands were Metallica, The Red Hot Chili’s, Airwhatever…. it’s over. It will be interesting to see when the last rock’n'roll god dies.
They said release ‘Remote Control’
But we didn’t want it on the label
They said, “Fly to Amsterdam”
The people laughed but the press went mad
Ooh ooh ooh someone’s really smart
Ooh ooh ooh complete control, yeah that’s a laugh
On the last tour my mates couldn’t get in
I’d open up the back door but they’d get run out again
At every hotel we was met by the Law
Come for the party – come to make sure!
Ooh ooh ooh have we done something wrong?
Ooh ooh ooh complete control, even over this song
You’re my guitar hero
They said we’d be artistically free
When we signed that bit of paper
They meant we’ll make a lotsa mon-ee
An’ worry about it later
Ooh ooh ooh I’ll never understand
Ooh ooh ooh complete control – lemme see your other hand!
I don’t judge you.
So, why do you judge me?
Huh?
All over the news spread fast
They’re dirty, they’re filthy
They ain’t gonna last!
This is Joe public speakin’
I’m controlled in the body, controlled in the mind
This is punk rockers,
we’re controlled by the price of the hard drugs we must find
Freedom is control
Total
C-o-n control – that means yo
I’m in so much pain, I could just just…
a) kill myself
b) cry
c) listen to the old Clash tapes God just made me discover
d) c, b, and a in reverse order (only a Man would do that)
Okay, den, I choose ”(d)”
What will we do with a drunken sailor?
What will we do with a drunken sailor?
What will we do with a drunken sailor?
Early in the Mornin
Shut the fuck up, you idiot. You never served a day in Iraq. Not a day in Kandahar. Because you are a pussy. You always said to yourself, it wasn’t worth it. It wasn’t. It isn’t.
At least acknowledge the beauty of the kill machine in the early morning MRAT light.
You are a sick fuck, JR. You are evil.
I am. I Am Evil. Yes I am.
And I am Crying
I showed a guy how to blog today. He’s a fried of mine. a work colleague I have’nt seen in three months. He’s trying to get his business online. He had no idea he was getting his consultation from the Steve Jobs of blogging. He kept resisting I said just do it, trust me. He had no idea. He wanted to pay for it. I said, dude, there is no reason, you and your wife can do this for free, just teach yourself one thing a day. Make one change a day. You will have complete control. And it is free. Trust me. I’m telling you. I know what I am talking about.
Matt!?. Dude. Personal message. Trust me. The article I photocopied (for my dad, who has a Sony eBook whatever) and was taking copious notes on the paper version. It was Ken Auletta’s piece “Publish or Perish” in the New Yorker. What a great fucking piece. Auletta’s pretty good. (If you don’t suck, you are great) (but you people know this already). Bam!
Bauer. Move out on your left hand flank.
Yes Sir.
You wanna wait here for 6 hours ?
If the Tide was Katya I’d wait here for Eternity. 6 hours means nothing to me. Bitch!
Next Question.
I will defer to _____. Obama isn’t that smart. Suckers. You fucking idiots. Me? Me? I don’t care. I’ve read Dostoevsky.
U.S. Faces Choice on New Weapons for Fast Strikes
http://www.nytimes.com/2010/04/23/world/europe/23strike.html?hp
On my mark 5 4 3 2… Kill
Ehh.
Not impressed.
The Mac/Leh/PBS Newshour did a much better piece on the F-35 tonight. I thought Bunn settled that nonsense with the F-22.
I didn’t “thought.” He did. Bunn is supertight and needs no excuses
“It’s just a flare, It’s just a flare. Lance, whattaya think a that?”
“Wow, Man, it’s really exciting.”
“no. The Waves, Lance, the waves!”
Read antiwar.com on McChrystal and Kurtz.
Say what you will about me, but at this point I’m in love with everybody at antiwar.com.
These people know what they are talking about.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vHjWDCX1Bdw
Thomas Olyphant.
I’m layin down the law. (“He pulled first.”)
On the thirst day she wrotes:
Everybody must read and unnersand Fyodor Dostoyevski:
Notes From UnnerGroun
pages 1-20. No exceptions
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9TWkCL3GwOA
You rackin’ a load before I put a hole through ya?
I’ve never liked this bitch. But for all the wrong reasons. Sociopath. Privileged. Ungrateful. Rich Cunt that beats her “servants,” “underlings,” call them what you will.
But now, thanks to Nightline (a show I used to like when Koppel did it and now hate for its lack of mission), we see her true colors.
A bonafide, King-Hell Piece-of-Shit.
http://blogs.abcnews.com/nightlinedailyline/2010/04/mia-farrow-naomi-campbells-blood-diamond.html
P.S. – Don’t watch the Nighline piece. It will just make you ill. Too many severed limbs. Too many starving poor people with no hands. Not enough Naomi Campbells with their heads cut off.
The only good news is that Charles Taylor will probably never see daylight again. Motherfucker.
Just tell your brother, I always looked out for him. Tell him please don’t tear anything. I can take straight shots. I WILL take straight shots. Just don’t rip anything. Please. I’m begging.
Just hit me. Hard.
Sascha.
Just hit me hard in the face or the head or the body.
I deserve it. Do it
Alex, do it. You have no choice. As hard as you can. You owe me. DO IT. I’m gonna take you and Katya to Mykonos and show you what pain is.
Alex? Hit me like you mean it! Dude! Now. Punch me, asshole!
Meanwhile, upstairs, I can her the conversation. The maratgin girl is talking wit dad
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