Wednesday, March 31, 2010

Rants in my Pants

Withdrawal...last grapple of winter...deluged with rain...dead sports season...March Badness....backed up with reviews...some of you may use and lose...who am I really blogging to?..primary nightmare caregiver...constant re-liver....consider the liver....doldrums is the river running through it...SXSW in 12 months...burnt by the bulk of the news that makes news....all of my music through headphones..all of my words read sleepily after hours burning midnight oil..causing clear thoughts to bury themselves in a fog of clashing questions and quest for inner fire.....from those ashes rises a rant...coiling like a mamba in a grey matter jungle......fangs alot....
The Ads on my sight are making me furious like the one to the left of this text..........I have to go in and change it weekly..keeps returning like a cancer cell poking fun at my insides...Why do I have this ad??.WHY am I Looking at Lil Wayne? No, you fucking imbecile webmaster...not everyone likes hip hop! In fact, you bottom of the barrel scraping dirty dollar clutching ad man, I would like to scream bloodcurdling and triumphantly,  with neck vessel bursting and scowling with a burnt tongue that I fucking Hate Hip Hop! It does nothing for me except bring out an anger that makes going postal look like a sunny Sunday walk in the fucking park. It's message of faux struggle drowned in auto-tune and hood bravado rhymes has dumbed society down to its soulless, beat hungry core...a sorry ass least common denominator  (s)hit single- sucking populace of  insta-reality celeb fans, slow walking sidewalk crowding welfare club rats, and guys who insist that everyone within earshot hears the latest jam as they drive by in their 1991 busted up Buick Skylark with Pep Boy Rims, 4 windows down and trunk rattling with overdriven noise polluting my fucking air!!!   Get it off of my site or I'm going to come looking for you....Someone should make you squeal like a piggy and recite Beatles lyrics out in the dead of the woods while being held down by 3 hired and hulking 'roid- hound metal thugs, as the tears from your blunt bleary eyes drip down onto your gang tattoos and droopy drawers.
  Get off and stay off of my site.   Stay out of my world. This little site is my world of thought. This is where I lay my words down and regurgitate ideas and shine lights for 200 people to read every week about real music that people put hard work into and pay dues to get heard. Real music for real people.  Keep your shit off of my shoe before I use it to kick you back to the fake ghetto where you belong.

exhale...continue on. Like a warrior through the dusty cut out bins and crate real estate...through the murky back waters of forgotten blogs and footage of yet to be discovered masters....

1 comment:

  1. This was beautiful, brought a tear to my eye.