Good Music Friday

We still here?
We still doing this thing?
I suppose.
Too much bullshit, so much so I barely even know what’s been going on much lately.
I hear that the polls are growing tighter between the TRUMPENKRIEG and CUNTON II – THE CUNTONING, so given that it’s rolling into the third week of May those numbers might not hold up. I also notice that despite his pledge to never prognosticate US election again, Vox has already declared the TRUMPENKRIEG a high favorite for a “Mondalean bloodbath” and perhaps that is so. Cunton is a terrible, horrible, awful candidate and that’s without the decades of lies, mistrust, slush-funding and months-long felony probe. At a base level she’s just a miserable, despicable, humorless wretch, riddled with various diseases and ailments, whose only appetite is for influence minus the culpability, not actual power; more of a need to be head bureaucrat to make everyone else’s lives more miserable than hers rather than actual power. In sum, she is a complete waste of a human life, from cradle to grave, without a single quality that redeems her existence or mitigates the blight she inflicts upon the larger human condition. Every breath she takes, every morsel of food or swig of drink, every fiber of cloth, ounce of metal or ream of paper she employs could have to gone to someone more deserving, more worthwhile, more productive.
And then there’s Trump.
But fuck it.
Bother me tomorrow.
I’m slammed with this bullshit for another six or seven hours, then I’m going to drink myself to sleep and spend half the weekend in some level of stupor, because that’s America now, that’s the world we live in during this, the great era of ONCE UPON A TIME.
Have a bitchin’ weekend and get ‘em the fuck in.

SONG SELECTION

The Nurse Who Loved Me
Fantastic Planet
Failure
Slash Records | 1996


Good Music Friday

This is getting old, fast.
Fuck another week right up the ass.
I suppose it’ll all be over soon enough, sooner or later, but fuck a quilt on a casket, I’m just about hitting a red line.
A BIG BRIGHT RED LINE.
How was your week?
Okay, no more time, moving on.
In brief:
The government wants queers and the mentally disabled (but I repeat myself) to use any bathroom they want, just so long as they make good with the pederasty, illegals are flooding through every available border AND we’re even flying/shipping some in, CLINTON II is crumbling while the FBI circles overhead, the Trumpenkrieg is ramping up on all fronts at the same time as the man himself breaks Hard Left for more comfortable water, the man who two weeks ago gave the story that Ted Cruz’s father was affiliated with Oswald has turned up dead in record time, no musicians of discernable repute died, and I can’t say for sure, but I think the Internet has killed the Serial Killer.
That’s it.
That’s all I know.
And I’ll know even less tomorrow.
So it goes.
Get ‘em in and peddle your problems another day.

SONG SELECTION

Hit The Beach
Year Of The Spy
Shock Nagasaki
TKO Records | 2007


Good Music Friday

This is going to be another short one, because once again, fuck this week in the ass with its pants on.
The next six weeks look to be about like that as well, but on the bright side it’ll only feel like, maybe, four and a half days tops.
So there’s that.
Briefly, though, I note that Carly Fiorina fragged the Ted Cruz campaign in a fraction of the time that her association destroyed Hewlett Packard or her own U.S. Senate campaign. That’s correct, her Senate run imploded almost on lift-off – blink and you would have missed it, yet she made much shorter work of Cruz 2016.
FEMINISM FOR THE WIN.
Then of course John “I Killed Blockbuster Video” Kasich dropped out too, because he was only ever in it to keep Cruz suppressed. If the GOP ticket isn’t Trump/Kasich I’ll buy you a Coke.
So it’s Trump.
And probably Clinton, harassed by an aging New England socialist, his legion of college-retarded jobless sychophants, the FBI, the DOJ, and nearly countless groups of other people that don’t like her and regard her as a threat at best and abomination at worst.
I CAN’T HARDLY WAIT.
Beyond that I’m punching out for the weekend.
I may survive the next six weeks but I’m not so sure about my liver.
Vive la France, motherfuckers.
Have a good weekend and get ‘em the fuck in.

SONG SELECTION

Lil’ Red Riding Hood
S/T Single – Original Mix
Sam The Sham & The Pharaohs
MGM Records | 1966


Good Music Friday

I take back every bad thing I ever said about any previous week in my life.
This was the most stupid, banal, ridiculous, arduous, pointless, frustrating waste of a week I’ve ever had, and it’s not even technically over yet.
A lot of stupid shit happened this week, both near and far.
I’m not going to go over it in any meaningful detail, but I do want to note the Trump riot that took place in my neck of the woods last night during his campaign stop. If these idiots running through the streets waving Mexican flags, lighting everything on fire, and throwing concrete blocks into moving traffic don’t realize they are making Trump’s point for him in spades, then perhaps they really are the spawn of third-world dullards that they’re reputed to be.
Other than that, I’m out.
Have a good weekend and get ‘em in double-time.
Fuck knows I will be.
And if there is a loving and merciful God, I will already be passed out by the time you read this.

SONG SELECTION

Sluts In The City
Doctrine Of Mayhem
GG Allin
Black & Blue Records | 1990


Good Music Friday

What a stupid week.
What a useless excuse for a five-day block of time.
Goddammit.
Anyway, we’re going to keep this quite short because I’m up to my viscous in other people’s unmitigated laziness. So in about 22 minutes I’m going to take a page out of that same book and commit some felonious sloth myself.
So what the Hell happened this week?
New York creamed its collective pants over Trump and CLINTON II, which has us shooting about PAR.
The queers are losing their ever-loving minds again because apparently there is no space in public or private life where their morally derelict predilections can be excluded or even unenthusiastically tolerated, because of course indulging the mentally ill and the perpetually adolescent is always the winning strategy. The more this goes on the more inclined I am toward the ISIS policy of throwing them from the rooftops for God to sort out.
That’s horrible, I know, but children and fags need boundaries and the visceral understanding of the consequences for their actions.
What else…
I’ve recently signed up for Amazon Prime, and I’ve been watching The Man In The High Castle in bits and pieces when I can. It’s sort of interesting but I’m having a hard time believing it. I’ve never read the book, so I have nothing to compare it to, but suspending disbelief enough to accept that the continental United States was invaded by both Nazi Germany AND Japan on both coasts, BUT THEN FOR SOME REASON STOPPED AT THE ROCKIES AND LEFT IT ALONE seems preposterous. Maybe it’s Vox Day’s doing with the Epic Beating Of The Dead Horse, but I just can’t swallow it. Also, I can’t accept the premise that the entire reason the US couldn’t compete in WWII is because FDR was assassinated in 1933, PROLONGING THE DEPRESSION AND PREVENTING THE CREATION OF THE US WAR MACHINE.
Okay. Fine.
I’ve had enough.
I’m calling it.
Get ‘em in and have a bitchin’ weekend everyone.

SONG SELECTION

Freedom Song
Fighting
Thin Lizzy
Vertigo Records | 1975


Good Music Friday

Guess what day it is.
C’mon now.
Guess.
It’s not nothing that the theme song to Happy Days slid right on past Friday like it didn’t even exist, because the true horror of the universe, the existential dread that fuels everything from The Tell-Tale Heart to The Twilight Zone is the fact that it’s always Friday, every single day, again and again, even when it’s not. Because what is Friday other than another way of saying it’s THE END?
THE END.
THE END WITH NO DISCERNABLE CATHARSIS, OTHER THEN THE HIGH-TENSION DREAD THAT NEXT WEEK IS ANOTHER BOULDER UP THAT HILL.
Good Luck and Happy Trails.
Out in the world, we’re just about half way through PHASE III of the US Presidential Election, and none of the important issues concerning it have come any closer to resolution. Trump is still in the driver’s seat. Cruz is still in the back seat. Kasich is still being drug along behind by a rope tied to the rear bumper. The Establishment is still making plans to carjack the whole damn thing. Sanders is still a communist, a crank, and more than a bit simple, and the Presumed Felon-Elect still faces potential indictments in an ongoing Federal election while her poll numbers do their best impression of the DOW after some wiseacre spooks the animal spirits.
And yet the people paid to talk about such things instead go on and on about the grim superficialities because it’s simply all they know, so hour after hour, day after day, week after week we get lots of gum-flapping and little to show for it.
I FUCKING LOVE REPRESENTIVE DEMOCRACY.
Closer to home the weather’s been great, I’m been busy teaching myself Selenium Webdriver for some reason, I managed to score a sincere letter of apology from none other than THE FUCKING IRS for their attempts to double-tap that which was never theirs, and I actually managed to make significant progress on the smoker. I’ll throw up picks later. It’s turning out pretty damn good if I do say so myself.
If y’all remember that thing I was trying to write last year about The Decline, well, I’m working on a shortened version that deals with the five primers and a little more in-depth explanation, and I’m aiming it for people like my mother-in-law who don’t really know any of the underlying issues but who have realized in the past couple of years that everything they once knew was a fraud. I think it’ll be about a 75 to 110 page little ebook and I’ll throw it up on Amazon or something.
I had laid out the broad strokes of the primers and the main thrust, and if any of y’all can think of things I missed, glossed over, incorrectly explained or am irredeemably incorrect about, please give me a heads up.
Anyway, that’s all I know right now.
Get ‘em in and have a badass weekend.

SONG SELECTION

She’s Drunk All The Time
High Noon In A Dark Blue Sea
Tim Timebomb & Friends
Pirate’s Press Records | 2013


Good Music Friday

Another day, another dollar, or so they say.
Funny thing though, I don’t feel like I’m a week richer, but I’m sure that’s just a figment of my imagination. I have it on good authority from the highest levels of Government that we’re doing fine. So fine, in fact, that we can bend economic law to our whim to save everything from the trees to the richest poor human civilization has ever known.
$15 an hour to flip burgers and sneer at customers.
The downside is that a lot of part time jobs will disappear.
The upside is a lot of those part time jobs went to people who used to work full time jobs before they disappeared due to the Affordable Care Act.
If I were a cynical man I’d suggest that it’s quite within the realm of possibility that the working poor are being hunted out of existence.
THANK GOD I’M NOT A CYNICAL MAN.
I’ve learned this week that Media Presumed President-Felon-Elect Hillary Clinton is stymied at every turn by the basic machinations of modern life – she can’t pour a beer; she can’t navigate a subway turnstile; she can’t crack a joke; she can’t take a joke; she can’t talk extemporaneously for five minutes without breaking down into an extended coughing jag.
Do they give you cough medicine in Leavenworth?
Oh in these pussy-ass cry-me-a-fucking-river times I’m sure they do, but I do enjoy the daydream where they send her off to a North Korean Labor Camp, and I can kill a good half-hour just playing that through in my mind.
So you can imagine my imminent disappointment even if they do end up indicting her.
On the GOP side, the Trumpenkrieg seems to be tiring, so much so that even Vox Day has seen fit to attempt an explanation. See, he’s so high-energy he just can’t keep up it through the doldrums. Yet he’s heading off to New York where he’s expected to win by more than 50%, with Cruz expected to finish a distant third.
The Train Is Fine.
Other than that, I haven’t heard much of what’s going on out there. I know that each new week ratchets up the aggregate level of insanity and instability in the social mood; this is best exemplified by a police chase yesterday that saw two robbery suspects do donuts, attempt ramp jumps, then end in a ghetto neighborhood at a cookout where the two were invited in – news choppers watched as the two robbers each got plates of food and a drink, and began partying it up, before the cops finally came in to get their guys.
Surreal.
It’s raining here, has been for a couple of days, and it’s supposed to for a few more. It’s a nice respite and gives me a perfect excuse to putter around the shop this weekend. Other than that, there’s not much going on.
Have a bitchin’ weekend and get ‘em in.

SONG SELECTION

Straight To Hell
Combat Rock
The Clash
Epic Records | 1982