Rollin' Like Sisyphus

Good Music Friday

Posted in Good Music Friday by Huckleberry on October 20, 2017

NOPE.
BEEN DRUNK SINCE YESTERDAY.
EXPECT TO BE DRUNK CLEAR ON THROUGH THE WEEKEND.
OUT.

SONG SELECTION

You’ll Never Leave Harlan Alive
Live Performance
Darrell Scott



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Good Music Friday

Posted in Good Music Friday by Huckleberry on October 13, 2017

I’M SO FUCKING OUT, YOU CAN’T EVEN BELIEVE IT.
The real tragedy is I just discovered I’m almost entirely out of alcohol, which I’m sure is either a metaphor that I’m too lazy to parse out, or an object lesson dispensed from on high that I’m to recalcitrant to heed.
So let’s drink to oblivion, either as a toast, or as a recommended frame of time.
Get ’em in, friends.

SONG SELECTION

She Knows
The Peel Sessions
Thin Lizzy
Strange Fruit Records | 1994


Good Music Friday

Posted in Good Music Friday by Huckleberry on October 6, 2017

What a shitty, horrible, piece of garbage lit on fire week this has been, both out there and in here.
Usually September is a motherfucker, but this year, the first week of October paid that bill in spades, like it was a fucking Great Leap Year Forward or something.
Still working.
Will knock off in a few, head out to the back deck with the appropriate beverage(s), pop the Dodger game on the radio, and drink my way out as I always do.
You know how I say that it was a false flag and things don’t add up and you can’t trust anything they say and it’s all a conjob and we’re all gonna die?
Still true, more now than ever.
Anyway.
Sorry to keep cutting these short, but the plates just won’t spin themselves.
Have a great one, and for God’s sake, get ’em in, if its all you do.

SONG SELECTION

Girl On LSD
You Don’t Know How It Feels (B-Side)
Tom Petty
Warner Bros. | 1994


Good Music Friday

Posted in Good Music Friday by Huckleberry on September 29, 2017

HASHTAGNOPE.
Callin’ it.

SONG SELECTION

Poor Little Fool
Roasted & Toasted
The Slapbacks
Part Records | 2006


Good Music Friday*

Posted in Good Music Friday by Huckleberry on September 22, 2017

No.
Stop.
Just stop it.
It can’t be Friday already.
WE JUST DID THIS FOR GOD’S SAKE.
I was there.
You were there.
How can any of you just go along with this embezzlement of the only valuable commodity you have?
HOW FOR GOD’S SAKE?
Okay.
I feel a little better.
No, not really. But I’ll be drunk soon, and that’s never a bad way to be, times being what they are and all.
I’m not even going to pretend I know what happened this week, both at home or abroad, because I don’t even really believe it’s been a week. Or even a day. I just posted the last one of these about 2 hours ago.
Hey, great, you get to live for a 100 years. Sure, it’ll go by in about 3 weeks, but easy come, easy go.
That’s no kind of way to live.
For those paying attention at home, the college football season is already 25% complete, AND ITS STILL SEPTEMBER. By this time tomorrow (you know, next Friday), it’ll be 33% in the books.
Fuck all of this.
Callin’ it, because I’m more in need of alcoholic remediation than any man I’ve yet to meet.
Get ‘em in, and make a good one.
HUCKLEBERRY OUT.

* Yes, El Borak, accelerationism by an order of magnitude.

SONG SELECTION

Cross-Eyed Mary
Aqualung
Jethro Tull
Island Records | 1971


Good Music Friday

Posted in Good Music Friday by Huckleberry on September 15, 2017

DAMN IT ALL TO HELL.
HAVE A GOOD WEEKEND Y’ALL.

SONG SELECTION

Joke’s On Me
Raise Your Hackles
Reducers S.F.
TKO Records | 2006


Good Music Friday

Posted in Good Music Friday by Huckleberry on September 8, 2017

You know, one of these Fridays I’m just not going to be here anymore. Then this will go dark, succumbing to whatever the blog equivalent of heat death is, and then where will you be.
Not a question.
Anyway.
Other things that have gone away never to return are Wrong Paul’s testicular fortitude and the debt ceiling. Imagine having an unlimited credit card that will keep right on working whether or not you ever pay the bill.
If you hear the faint twinkle of shattering glass somewhere out in the night, pay it no mind. That’s just the corpse of Ben Bernanke trying to keep the helicopters in the air for just a few more minutes.
I picked a great weekend to not be in Florida. Of course, that’s just about every weekend.
Hurricanes, earthquakes, fires, floods, and everything else, I’d like to think that the summer would make way for some measure of autumnal relief, but c’mon. We’ve been down this road a time or twelve before.
You know how pets and animals get all crazy, agitated and unpredictable when something like an earthquake or storm is brewing? Most people note this as they lament the inability of people to do the same. Yet I can’t help but look around the headlines and consider the possibility that larger groups of people absolutely behave the same way amid pending danger.
But what do I know.
Closer to home, we’re busy, always busy. I’ve got like 26 things I need to write for my own personal satisfaction, that I just can’t seem to get to, and its driving me insane.
Work toward financial independence they said.
What could go wrong they said.
So hey, I’m callin’ it.
Have a bitchin’ weekend and get ‘em the fuck in triple-time.

SONG SELECTION

Eve Of Destruction
Live & Wasted: Unplugged 1990
Johnny Thunders
Receiver Records | 2000


Good Music Friday

Posted in Good Music Friday by Huckleberry on September 1, 2017

Yep.
Supposedly it’s a holiday weekend, but I can’t remember if it’s Memorial Day (did we already pass it?) Fourth of July (no flags, so maybe not) and it’s none of the winter holidays, I know that because it’s just a couple of degrees too hot to believe it could be winter in Southern California.
So I guess its Labor Day, a holiday for communists, but c’mon, every day is a holiday when you’re a communist.
Funemployment guarantees it.
I look upon the manifold disasters in Houston with resigned weariness, checking my earthquake prep both here and out at the Desert Redoubt. The desert is more simple, requiring the storage of a shit-ton of water and food (though a natural aquifer inexplicably exists underneath a portion of the property); there’s nothing to collapse, nothing to explode (no gas lines), and all electric runs underground so it may break but won’t bring death crackling from on high.
The problem, of course, comes from Los Angeles.
The trick will be to successfully run through the following process:
RUN OR STAY
If RUN, Get to Desert Redoubt with minimal provision; prepare to have all LA house valuables looted, and to see incriminating pictures posted to Instatwatter of Black Lives Matter illiterates jeering in triumph from my living room. Getting out of the metropolitan area will be dangerous. In the Northridge earthquake, most of the people who died did so because they drove off freeway overpasses that had portions collapse. I have three escape routes and only one requires any freeway travel, however the other two routes pass over the mountains, and earthquakes fell trees as surely as they fell the works of Man. Nighttime egress is off the table in the event of an earthquake.
If STAY, Ensure enough food and water for several people for at least a couple of weeks, enough wapons/ammunition to fight off Black Lives Matter illiterates who will attempt to break into my living room to post pictures to Instatwatter of their triumphant invasion of my living room. In addition, there are numerous things that can collapse, break, crumble, or otherwise snap, crackle, and pop. Hundreds of brittle water mains across the southland may break, ironically causing flooding as well, in addition to sinkholes. There will be fires. Freeways will collapse. Roads will be blocked with all manner of debris, big and small. The police will not be my friend, and may be more dangerous than the looters.
So there we go.
Anyway, it is in fact a holiday weekend, so I’m knockin’ off a bit early. It’s actually hotter at the LA house than it is out in Death Valley at the moment (114.4 vs 111.8), so I picked a perfect time to stay. Also, UCLA kicks off on Sunday night, so I get to watch them disappoint me at least 12 times this season beginning now.
I’m out. Have a bitchin’ weekend and get ‘em the fuck in, even if that’s all you do.

SONG SELECTION

Banker’s Song
What’s Your Plan For The Wasteland?
The Roughies
S/R | 2015


Good Music Friday

Posted in Good Music Friday by Huckleberry on August 25, 2017

No post.Drinking now. blrg.

SONG SELECTION

Feel Like Goin’ Home

S/R

Reverend Gary Davis

Good Music Friday

Posted in Good Music Friday by Huckleberry on August 18, 2017

Another week, another dollar.
So much I want to say, not time in which to say it.
Shootin’ time draws nigh, and I know this through a simple barometer:

    1) Randomly toss out in general small-talk conversation “if this country is still one country in 10 years, I’ll be incredibly impressed”
    2) Gauge the level of obsequious horror latent in the response


The obsequious horror has very well made way for mildly enthusiastic hope.
Its headin’ south in a hurry, friends.
In other news, I’m so far up to my rectum in work, I barely know what month it is. I can feel its still summer, so August? September?
Fuck if I know.
In addition to that, there are a couple of things I’m still trying to write, and trying to do that on a smartphone in idle moments is a fucking war crime, worse than anything that ever happened at Birkenau.
Yes, really.
Stop looking at me like that.
Jeez, so fucking sensitive about Holocaust jokes anymore. You’d think Nazis were still goose-steppin’ in the streets or something.
So there’s more opportunities for a Fort Sumpter 2.0 this weekend, as spoiled communist brats embrace the agitprop and fling themselves in front of retarded window-licker Challengers in several cities across the land.
And North Korea is threatening Guam of all fucking places.
Fine.
Back to the other thing now.
I’m callin’ it.
Have a bitchin’ weekend, and for God’s sake, get ‘em in. It’ll be Monday before you know it.

SONG SELECTION

Shut Up, And Pour Me A Drink
Endless Bummer
Sloppy Seconds
Kid Tested Records | 2008