Uncategorized – Page 8

Savior

I hate picking categories for my blogs. Sometimes I sit here for like ten minutes and mull. I like sitting and mulling over things. Then I usually just drift away, drift away, drift away………

I’ve been wanting to write this for a few days. I think it might be important. There are just so many angles and I’m seeing things in my head like a great big kaleidoscope lately and Resces Peanut Butter Cups saved me. Ramble done. Substance begin.

Saving

I met a woman
She had a mouth like yours
She knew your life
She knew your devils and your deeds
And she said,
‘Go to him, stay with him if you can
But be prepared to bleed’

-Joni Mitchell

When first heard these lyrics, it resonated with something deep down within me. I had a dream. Well a daydream of sorts. I was 14 years old. It was on my parents bed. I saw that man. I saw the man I was supposed to save. The features in his face were blurred. Then I knew. Then I knew.

The search was short. I thought I found that which had been conjured to me. This was only a faux pearl. This was something like heartache but I had no heart. No one was saved. I was left a wreckage. Nothing was broken. Nothing has no name.

I went off further into the abyss we call humanity. I saw glimpses of greatness. I saw far more horrors. I’ve seen many things that do not bear repeating. For their lack of importance, for their lack of any kind of depth. Only rings around a tree. Only rings around a giant redwood smothered around her kindren deep within the darkest forrest.

Then one day someone introduced a novel concept to me. That of saving myself. So I did. I had just seen Trainspotting again recently. So I left the life I knew, the people I knew stuck at a random motel. I thought I had stolen their drugs but in actuality I stole their Marlboro miles. I did not fret. I did not care. I never looked back. That life was gone.

Then I found something. I found myself. He was hiding where the willows never weep. On a tall cumulus cloud nestled in between the puffs.

When I was sitting home one night it occured. I had no idea what was happening. There was no immediate warmth or glow or feeling of glee or joy. I met the person I was supposed to save. There’s really no way of knowing you are going to save something until the process is already underway. It sweeps you up one night and then you wake up the next day with a hangover. You wonder what just occured. I thought this was love. This was nothing of the sort.

So I saved him.

Literally.

His life.

Not we had a little pep talk and he went out and threw three touchdown passes and the whole town of rednecks went into a frenzy.

Not I sprinkled my fairy dust all through the village and everyone thought he was a prince.

Not he was sad. We got drunk. We fucked. He felt acceptance but walked with a limp.

No. Physically preventing him from leaving this world. Tackling him with the noose in his hand.

It happened again. This time I offered him death. I offered him a chance to overdose on my bed. He chose not. Saved again.

Aftermath

I do not regret the choices I have made.

I stand by each and every one of them as my own.

Sometimes I wonder whether or not I saved the person I was supposed to save. It’s not really what I would call a regret. Just more mulling inside my own head.

There are times that make my decision feel right. There are times that make it cold and barren and desolate. An Antarctic tundra trapped by numbness between the webbing of my feet.

I do not search for what is to be saved.

I do not seek that which lies within.

I venture forth the crumbling highway.

I call for nothing yet something always begins.

By SpaceDog

Italy is Awesome, BUT Florence Fn Sucks.

For those paying attention to this shit I mentioned that there where Two pertinent points from a recent trip to Italy that I would Post about. I’m not writing a Travel Blog here (not in the fucking least), and I don’t work for fucking National Geographic either so there You go.

In the First Post Tilted “Marijuana: Whats Going On In Italy” was addressing Italy’s stance and legality of Marijuana. For those who didn’t read it by chance in summation: It Sucks plain and simple.

The following Post is the Second Point I’d like to make regarding Italy.

Now I feel it is of utter importance to make it ABUNDANTLY clear that I am in NO WAY talking shit about Italy. So what if Their stance on Marijuana Sucks Their far from alone so can’t fault Them there. Also if ONE City bites the Big One You can’t fault the ENTIRE fucking COUNTRY because of it thats fucking ignorant as a motherfucker.

It is true Italy is full of Cities/Towns that revel in Medieval Majesty in spades and that putting it lightly. One day a Member of Our or Clan wanted to take a Road Trip to Florence because its the Home of Michelangelo’s David among other amazing things to see/do.

We all agreed, loaded up, and got the car caravan rolling down the narrow and winding mountain roads towards the City of Florence Our hopes held high. They just weren’t high enough as it turned out.

For the record the ACTUAL CITY of Florence is Beautiful as well as draped in History. And The City is home to many wonderful Works of Art. It’s only once Your parked, and walking the streets that You begin to see what MAKES spending time in Florence inevitably Suck Serious Ass.

In Florence the Biggest Unwanted Hassles come from Three different Groups of Street Hustlers. I will be listening them in Order from the Lesser of Three Evils to the Worst of the Worst.

And Away We GO…….

The least Offensive of the Three aforementioned Groups are the Homeless looking Pan Handlers/Beggars.

Now Plenty of People in America bitch and whine about how Beggars are a bother being Dirty looking and depressing. Basically these People find Beggars to simply be what They consider a Living Human Eyesore.

All in all though the American Beggars to Their credit remain stationary having posted up in a particular spot, and are quietly subservient showing the shame They feel for being in Their unfortunate situation.

This is NOT the case in Florence. For starters Beggars there roam the streets constantly on the move pacing all over the fucking City. That though isn’t the real problem.

The real problem is Their aggressive in Your face style of asking for spare change. They will walk right up in your personal space and then shove some shitty paper cup in your face. At this point the stare blankly into your eyes and shake the cup jingling the small amount of change at the bottom.

I believe the fact that Florence is full of Visitors from around the Globe the Beggars use the Language Barrier to Their advantage. It affords Them the Luxury of Lingering longer.

The final Tactic They employ is just that Lingering. No matter how many times you tell them No They remain fixed in front of You refusing to accept Your answer.

Also I noticed that like with the Police when You’re dealing with one another one seems to always show up as well. I’m not sure what the second Beggars strategy is exactly, but its one of the following.

Its either They are using Their presence to up the pressure for the Mark to just give up and give them some money just to fuck off out of Their faces.

It could also be that They like attracted to the commotion like a Shark to a Feeding Frenzy, and just shows up out of instinct looking for an easy score. Perhaps its just that They think the primary Beggar has found a generous party, and wants a piece of the generosity.

The only saving grace is Pan Handling is illegal in Florence which is why the Beggars stay on the move to avoid the Police Foot Patrols (as well as every other fucking Cop). This means while Their tactics are bullshit They ironically can’t afford to hang around too long before having to keep moving to avoid arrest.

The Second Group of Hustlers have far more flair to Their Song and Dance Scheme. They are extremely friendly, energetic, outgoing, and quick with a smile. They will approach You introduce Themselves, and instantly strike up a friendly conversation generally over the typical bullshit. They ask where your from, how you like Italy/Florence, whats your home country is like, and so on.

Once the conversation is in full fucking swing They make Their play. Without even mentioning it or bringing an ounce of attention to it They will inadvertently hand You some sort of cheap ticket like a Bumble Machine Bracelet or some other shit, and Then after a bit more lip service They ask You to Pay Them for whatever completely ridiculous trinket They handed You just moments ago.

Thats fucking insane. Thats the equivalent of Me going into a Clothing Store and walking straight up to the counter. Then the Clerk hands Me whatever is laying around in Lost and Found and charges Me for it. It’s nothing I want or need it’s something I wouldn’t let My Kid waste Their money on, but The Store just assumes I’ll to buy it.

Once the Jig is Up like the Beggars these Hustlers throw Their hands up, step away from You, and basically refuse to take it back, BUT through it all They still expect You to Pay Them for it.

You virtually drop whatever cheap piece of shit They handed You on the fucking ground before They will collect Their crap and piss off elsewhere.

The Final Group of Offenders are the absolute fucking WORST OF THE WORST, and that Group would be The Gypsies.

For clarification purposes Gypsies are NOT the Withered Old Crones who place Curses on People in Horror Movies. Nor are the the Magical and Mystical Fortune Tellers like in Disney fucking Cartoons.

I was some what aware that Gypsies had a rather Shady, and rather Shitty reputation in Europe apparently it seemed.

In Europe They are essentially considered Nomadic Con Artists. Gypsies for the most part Travel around the Country Scamming and Cheating the People the encounter along the way.

They are also looked down upon as petty small time Thieves who deal in such things as Games of Chance or Pick Pocketing.

Bottom Line: They are NOT to be trusted EVER.

With that said on with the Story.

In Florence roaming around in the Streets there are in fact authentic Gypsies. They have a rather unconventional and slightly confusing Scam You see.

It’s significant I believe to note at this point that NONE of these Gypsy Street Scam Arist’s are/were Men.

The Scam is as Absurd as it is ridiculous. The Gypsies cake Their faces with some sort of what looks to be lead based face paint. Now there are no other markings like the black eyeliner accents seen with Mimes or Added color like with Clown Aesthetics.

The clothes they dress up in are by far the lamest outfits or lame fucking attempt at a fucking costume.

They dress very plain with Long Simple Skirts that are so long they damn near hide Their feet from view. They sport these White Billowy Shirts, and These matching white hat like headdresses called Mob Caps. So in the end the affect most resembles a 18th century Peasant who worked as a Servant in some Rich Son of a Bitch’s Kitchen as a Scullery Maid.

What They do is the sneak up behind some Poor Bastard when he’s not paying attention (usually do to a plethora a distractions Florence provides) and suddenly grab ahold of His/Her wrist.

They then without saying a single word (which is exactly like a fucking Mime) the start posing with The Mark is cheesy clique poses such as a Hug While Cheek to Cheek, Kissing You on the Cheek, Holding Your Hand while making some bullshit Puppy Love Face or some stupid shit like that.

They also encourage whoever is with The Mark to take a Photo, and then usually then run the same bullshit routine on Them as well.

And unlike the tools that hang around on the streets of Hollywood in Super Hero Costumes, and shit like that who pose for tips these Gypsy fuckers STRAIT UP DEMAND YOU PAY THEM (though You NEVER solicited Them for any sort of bullshit Song and Dance Photo Opportunity)

This is exactly what happen when Our Clan stopped in a Plaza/Town Square, and for one fucking fleeting second I forgot to put My hand back in my pocket. I was keeping My hands in My pockets to guard My Phone as well as Wallet, but also so they specifically couldn’t be grabbed by The Fucked Up Gypsy Scullery Maid motherfuckers.

My initial instinct was FUCK THEM We didn’t ask Them for jack shit so thus We owe them NOTHING. Also I was simultaneously trying to remember the Italian word for Police since I as mentioned just like with the Beggars what the Gypsies are doing is ILLEGAL.

I just figured if I said Police a few times while getting louder each time it scare the scumbags off. If need be though I have no problem with conflict so if They felt Froggy I’d eat Their fucking Legs.

Well My Wife is much nicer so when the short Gypsy Woman squared up to Her (being a demanding piece of fucking shit), and wanted 20 Euros or about $29 U.S. as payment .

My Wife was well aware that when this bullshit Horse and Pony Show started what the hell it was, and were it would inevitably End. Again being FAR NICER than I ever could be She agreed to 20 Euros.

I wasn’t really fucking happy about that, but its not My job to be happy it’s to Back My Wife’s Plays.

What happened next only lead to further complicate the already awkward as fuck situation that was playing out. My Wife went to retrieve the 20 Euros from Her damn near wallet sized travel purse (or whatever the thing is).

At the same time She was keeping watch for any possible Purse Snatchers or other Petty Thieves, and by sheer shitty luck accidentally pulled out a 50 Euro bill (that had been sitting behind the 20 Euro bill) at the same time.

You probably have already deduced what happened next yeah?! The fucking Gypsy Woman after seeing the fucking 50 now is suddenly now demanding 50 Euros. My Wife put her foot down and told the Bitch that They had agreed on 20 Euro so 20 Euros it was.

Of fucking course the despicable Gypsy Woman sticks to Her Guns, BUT at the same time My Wife was Standing Her Ground. Apparently We had a Stand Off on Our Hands so to speak.

The Gypsy Woman starts getting louder and louder until She is damn near Yelling.We had no idea what she was ranting about because none of us

spoke anything close to fluent Italian. I don’t think that mattered in the least as the whole Scam relies on Pressure and Aggression to extort money.

Meanwhile My Wife is aggressively at this point to take the agreed upon 20 and take a fucking hike. I’m just waiting and watching to be ready for whatever the fuck might happen next as things started to escalate quickly.

The fucking Gypsy Woman is trying to literally get in My Wife’s face while My Wife dodges Her, and has now started waving her arms around in the air like some sort of Asshole. She’s also accelerated Her speech to the point She sounded like some fucking Italian Auctioneer in the middle of a bidding frenzy.

The Other People on in the Plaza (about 25-30) had started to take notice and even stopped to observer the building chaos. This turned into BUT keeping a low profile. The Attention of a growing Crowd called direct attention to the Gypsies who didn’t want to get the attention of the Police.

Finally to everyones fucking relief the Gypsy Woman’s Partner in Crime shows up out of no where like a fucking Ninja, and grabs Her friend by the arm. This does virtually nothing to calm the ongoing conflict as Her friend wasn’t about to drop a goddamn thing.

Her Partner in Crime had started to physically pull Her away from Us, and thank god She was the stronger of the two since Her friend kept ranting and raving to beat the fucking band every goddamn step of the fucking way.

At last the pair of Street Hustling Gypsy Scam Artists had vanished down one of the many dark and rather narrow side streets much like Cockroaches running from the Light.

Before I bring this fucker to an end there are a couple of other things about Florence I feel compelled to mention.

One is Florence has been converted into a MASSIVE Tourist Trap. Due to the Fact Florence draws in a lot of Tourists all the fucking prices for any and everything has been jacked sky high to the point its just a fucking rip off.

Also all the Tourist are so thick and heavy in Florence that your damn about shoulder to shoulder walking in the streets. Its like being at fucking Disney during the years largest Promotion just mobbed as a motherfucker.

The last thing is this. There (I suppose again to to the booming Tourist Trade Florence experiences) WAY TOO FUCKING MANY American Stores. I mean I didn’t travel across the fucking Ocean to go fucking shopping at Hugo Boss, Disney Store or eat at Burger King. Actually this was the one and only time We did in fact see a American Fast Food joint as Fast Food is a virtually alien concept.

All in All Italy is AWESOME as all get out, BUT Florence SUCKS A BAG A DICKS.

Thanks for Reading,

By Les Sober

The Insane Electric Scam

If your like me, my experience, or the People I have spoken with when it comes to Bills the biggest bitch of the bunch is the Electric Bill. Its no exception here in the Southern Country.

Well there is one chief difference, The Area in which I reside is at the Heart of one of the Longest on Going, BUT SOME HOW LEGAL Scams by the Conmen at POS&MF Electric.

Now if you haven’t noticed I have a sick fascination (bordering on Obsession ) with Scams. I love picking them apart revealing how utterly fucking idiotic they actually are, and then talking shit about the Stupid Scam Artists. I believe I posted a previous Post pertaining to Scams that explains what I’m talking about further so back to the story.

It all started many, many motherfucking moons ago in 2003 when POS&MF announced they were going to build the greatest Electric Plant the World has ever fucking witnessed.

It was billed to the TiTs I tell you. It was going to take 900-1000 archers of land just to built the Behemoth. It was going to provide THOUSANDS of Jobs for a Economically Depressed Area which had the Locals psyched as hell.

The New Plant was going to have the NEWEST Technology available. Thus providing the Highest quality service available to their beloved customers.

It would be run by the most intelligent and qualified experts money could buy. Their genius alone would fuel the endless success that the New Humungous Plant POS&MF proclaimed.

And the best part of POS&MF’s new Mega Plant announcement was that it would end up reducing Customer’s bills as the New Plant would be much more efficient than their current cluster of sub stations.

Now Here’s The Scam:

Now to raise the excessive amount of capital needed not to mention the Bill Gate’s sized Bankroll needed to Build the New Plant POS&MF had formulated a gloriously simple scam.

POS&MF informed their Customers that to raise the funds needed for the New Plant they would be adding a NEW ADDITIONAL CHARGE TO THEIR CUSTOMER’S BILL. The reason for the SHARP (and excessive) increase would go directly for building the New Super Plant that would enrich Customer’s lives and improve quality of life for all according to POS&MF’s endless line of Propaganda and Self Serving Announcements.

Over the next 10 years POS&MF while continuing to collect more money to build the aforementioned Super Station every month from their Customer’s managed to blow $9 BILLION FUCKING DOLLARS. Yes thats a 9 with a BILLION behind it. POS&MF blew a $9 Billion Budget. Who the hell can fuck up to the tune of $9 BILLION??!!! How does one fuck up to the tune of $9 BILLION, I mean thats a rather fantastical fuck up.

HERES WHERE IT GETS REALLY ABSURDLY INSANE…

After 6 years or so POS&MF had epically failed attempting to build its New Electric Plant was now facing being stuck with $9 BILLION tab.

So POS&MF informed their Customer’s that the New Plant Project was officially being cancelled.

Now first off Customer’s WOULDN’T BE REIMBURSED A SINGLE GODDAMN DIME of the Extra Fee they were billed for every month for the last 6 years.

AND HERE WHERE IT GETS REALLY ABSURD AND UTTERLY INSANE…

The Story is still Continuing to This Day.

You see Customer’s are STILL BEING CHARGED MONTHLY UNDER THE GUEISS THAT ITS FOR A/THE NEW PLANT THAT WILL NEVER ACTUALLY BE BUILT.

Somehow POS&MF managed to collect $9 BILLION in additional Fees over 6 years from its Customers and blow it out their collective ass. Then after announcing the Cancellation of the New Plant Project has managed to (under some mysterious pretense) CONTINUE to Bill Their Customer’s the Additional Service Fees for another 4 years for THE FAILED PLANT.

What that means is after a decade POS&MF failed to build a New Plant as they promised, Cost Customer’s an additional total of $9 BILLION over 6 years, Cancelled the Project, and are now continuing to charge the Extra Service Fees to reimburse themselves for the 9 BILLION DOLLARS THEY SQUANDERED.

If that isn’t one of the all time Shittiest and ingenious Scams I don’t know what the fuck is.

Thanks for Reading,

Les Sober

Mixology Makeover : The Beertail’s Backstory

Mixology is a truly annoying Hipster Fueled Trend that seems to have no end, at least not in sight. One of the things that irritates me about Mixology is its pretentious bullshit attitude, and its revamping Old School or Cheap Shit Drinks with a High Class Upgrade (usually fresh exotic ingredients, a bottle of Bitters, some Muddling, Majestic Mixers, and Perhaps Smoke or a Little Fire bullshit Fanfare)

These cheap tricks come with a egotistically driven upscale cost of $18-22 for just a single drink. I don’t know about you but when I walk into a Bar I want a stiff drink not a drawn out pretentious as hell Circus De Olay drink making (oh fucking sorry they call it “Assembling” or “Constructing” as in Assembling/Constructing a Drink as opposed to Making a Drink) performance art piece of shit put on by some 1920’s dressed throwback Lumberjack looking Hipster Over Styled Pompous Mixologist.

The latest Abomination in Alcohol perpetrated by Mixology is the New Trend of Cocktails referred to as Beertails. Now giving credit where credit is due Mixology has a much more Tried and True formula for constructing Their version of a Beertail.

What I mean is that they’re more of what you would expect a Beertail is when try and picture it in your mind for the first time.

Mixology Beertails are legitimate Cocktails that is their principle ingredient is LIQUOR, then there are the Mixers such as Bitters or some Aromatic bullshit, AND THEN IT’S TOPPED OFF with a Bit of Beer.

When it comes to the ORIGINAL Beertail(s) Well thats a Horse of a completely different color I assure you. Lets take a look further shall we yes lets.

Now the origin of the Original Beertail is sort of a Who came first the Chicken or the Egg situation. See there were until very recently only 2 places one would or could find a Beertail.

One was in a 22-24 ounce can Made By Budweiser (who to their credit did a damn good bit of Advertising considering their concoction was a Laughing Stock since day fucking one) at where ever it is you purchase Alcohol from. l (Geography actually applies here so go High School fucking Science)

Budweiser versions of BeerTails such as:

Grape-A-Rita,

Apple-Ahhh-Rita

Peach-A-Rita

Mango-Rita/ Mang-A-Rita

Coco-Nut-Rita

Cherry-Ahhh-Rita

Berry-A-Rita (Limited Edition)

Raz-Ber-Rita

Lime-A-Rita

Straw-Ber-Rita

Lemon-Ade-Rita

Water-Melon-Rita

Cran-Brrr-Rita (With or Without Lime)

Pine-Apple-Rita

Consisted of 2 simple ingredients. 1st being Beer the 2nd being the Cheap Mass Produced Artificial as Fuck Flavored Icy Slush.

Budweiser took a good bit of shit over this line of product BUT their still making and selling it so bottomline SOMEONE and quite a few SOMEONES are buying them thus keeping them on the market.

Budweiser’s Beer-A-Rita’s were written off by most members of the general public as yes a fucking joke, not to mention disgusting tasting. They were considered Collage Material a staple of Frats/Societies across the Nation.

Others busted Budweiser’s balls by referring to Beer-A-Ritas as the number one cocktail choice of White Trash, The Only Alcohol you can buy with Food Stamps, For White Trash Wedding, Voted the number one drink in Trailer Parks across America, and other shit like that.

The Second place you could partake of an Original Beertails was in off the Beaten Path, Out in the Woods/Sticks/Boonies, the Path less Followed type of Tiny Towns. These small out of the way towns have some odd rules pertaining to Alcohol.

Mainly it the Rule that a Bar can Sell Wine and Beer ONLY, NO LIQUOR NOT EVEN A SINGLE AIRPLANE BOTTLE, NOT A SINGLE SHOT IN THE ENTIRE ESTABLISHMENT.

The second odd and annoying Rule is there are also NO LIQUER STORES or PLACES YOU CAN PURCHASE BEER or WINE. Remember the Geography comment well here is where it applies most here.

In some places you have to buy Beer and Liquor SEPARATELY meaning you have to drive to 2 different stores. Some places still bar the Sale of Alcohol on Sundays, and some places you can Buy Wine/Beer at Grocery Stores, Gas Stations, Convince Stores pretty much everywhere, and so on.

So to adapt to these ridiculous limitations these Tiny Town’s Bars came up with the idea of mixing a 12 ounce beer (Ironically Budweiser was a top pick), and some of the aforementioned Cheap, Nasty, Artificial as Fuck Flavored Icy Slush. They chose Margarita mix and called it the Beer-Rita. They also chose Bloody Mary Mix creating the Beery Mary.

The Bottomline being here Beertails/Beer-Ritas were Beer and Cheap Frozen Drink Mix, and One of the WORST IDEAS IN ALCHOL THATS EVER BEEN THOUGHT UP.

Granted now there is a grey area. During the transition from a fucking Joke Drink into today’s Mixology’s version there was a sub sect of Beertails that made the MOST SENSE to me in the “By Definition” perspective.

Here are just a few:

The Beerita (no Hyphen here) is 7 ounces of Beer, Margarita Mix, and Lime Wedge for Garnish.

The Dirty Flower- Wheat Beer mixed with Fruit Punch

Chelada- Beer, Hint of Lime, and Clamato (You may have also seen Budweisers version of this additional failure still lurking around though rare.)

Chelada Version 2- Light Beer mixed with Lime Juice

Bul- Light Beer mixed with Ginger Ale

Black Velvet- 1/2 Guinness Beer 1/2 Champagne

Snake Bite- 1/2 a Lagar Beer and 1/2 Hard Cider

Radler- 1/2 Lagar Beer and 1/2 Grape Fruit SOD

As you can see the first transitional versions of Beertails were elevated a bit but still a bit of a Novelty Joke. In The End god knows where the hell the bitter tail of the Beertail will eventually come to its demise, but if I’m still drinking then I’ll be there.

Thanks for Reading,

By Les Sober

The Mentors: The Juvenile Joke of the Underground

This post is to address the fun fact that through all my manic musical tastes that there has never been a single mention of the band The Mentors, and thats because they’re not a band their actually a fucking joke.

The Mentors are the equivalent of a group of High School Freshmen Boys lingering around a Basement deliberately trying to write the most shocking lyrics purely for shock’s sake (unlike GG Allin who was fucked up yes, but he had a message and a mission behind his violent and obscene music)

And like a bunch of puberty ridden teenage boys The Mentors only have one subject matter when it comes to their music and its simply Sex. They’re Rock’s answer to 2 Live Crew (who also faded away fast because no one wants to hear numerous albums that solely relied on sexually explicit and often laughable lyrics over shitty beats)

The Mentors are best described as if the World’s shittiest GG Allin Impersonator, and the World’s shittiest Gwar cover band took an insane amount of LSD, Banged Each other , and collectively gave birth a severely mentally disabled child known as The Mentors.

The biggest failure of The Mentors (other than being sub par musicians and crappy lyricists) is in their DESPERATE ATTEMPTS to try and Shock People, and make them think shit like “Oh My God! Who is this disgusting band obsessed with Sex?!”

To sum up The Mentors failure the bottom line is just one word: OVERKILL.

The Mentors employed several cliche gimmicks to achieve their goal of Shocking the Audience and Revolting Society such as :

The Mentors became a self proclaimed Porno Rock Band (Punk mixed with some Heavy Metal)

To help back up their Porn Rock Creation The Mentors Drummer (there were a few) would plaster his entire Drum Kit with Pictures of Naked Chicks cut out of Porn Magazines.

The Mentors Song Titles are as absurdly immature as their laughable lyrics with Song Titles like:

Secretary Hump, Shocked and Grossed, On The Rag, My Erection Is Over, White Trash Woman, Service Me Or Be Smacked, Kings Of Sleaze, Donkey Dick, Clap Queen, Herpes Two, In And Out Of You, Couch Test Casting, Heterosexuals Have The Right To Rock, and Wine You, Dine You, Sixty Nine You.

At some point in the early 1990’s The Mentors rebranded their self proclaimed Porn Rock musical style to Rape Rock. This was simply cheap schtick used to ramp up the offensive factor in the most obvious and cliche manner.

The Mentors adopted Stage Names as moronically immature as their shitty music and here they are:

Original Line up was: Eric Carlson ( Sickie Wifebeater) on guitar, Steve Broy ( Dr. Heathen Scum) on bass, and Eldon Hoke ( El Duce) on drums and Vocals.

Due to his severe and chronic alcoholism Hoke eventually couldn’t play drums and sing at the same time so he ended sole as Singer. Hoke died in 1997 walking intoxicated along some train tracks.

The Current Lame Line Up is still Carlson and Broy along with Rick Lomas (Insect On Acid) who joined in 2014 as Background Vocals. There is also Cousin Fister (real name not given) on guitar, John Christopher ( El Chapo) joined as drummer in 2014, and lastly Don Nutz ( The Italian Stallion) who joined in 2015 as drummer for European Tours as well as Long U.S. Tours.

Past Members Include: Zippy on bass 1988-1989, Clark Savage ( Mossedick) on drums from 1991-2008), Sickie Jr on rhythm guitar, El Rapo on vocals (2001-2005), Marc D (Mad Dog Duce) on vocals (2005-2014) and on drums from 2008 to 2014, Chris Jacobson ( Jack Shit) on bass in 1980; died 2011, Mike Dewey (Heathen Scum Wezda) on bass 19080-1987, and Ed Danky (Poppa Sneaky Spermshooter ) on bass 1986-1987; died 1990.

The band is better known for their off stage antics than any fucking shit song they wrote. The 3 most know things/incidents The Mentors are actually known for (not their toilet rock)

Number 1 : No one even had a single goddamn clue who The Mentors were until 1985 (which was 9 fucking years after the forming of The Mentors) In 1985 there were Congressional hearings run by Tipper Gore’s Parents Music Resource Center (PMRC). The PMRC’s attention had been caught by an extremely obscure Mentor’s song called “Golden Shower”.

The lyrics for “Golden Shower” ended having excerpts of it being read on the Congressional floor where they were received not by shocked gasps, BUT rather by Outbreaks of Uncontrollable Laughter.

One of the Excerpts from The Mentor’s song “Golden Shower” is as follows

“Bend up and smell my anal vapor,

Your face is my toilet paper…..

Our relationship I don’t want to spoil it,

You are my personal toilet……

It’s getting near the hour,

On your face I leave a shit tower,

Shit Tower, prune skin power,

Smelling’ sour, it’s the Shit Tower,

Golden Showers”

Number Two: The Mentors were featured on Jerry Springer in the early 1990’s (the heyday of daytime talk shows when they ruled the airwaves) as part of an episode on Shock Rock Acts.

While interviewed the band members did everything in their fucking power to offend, insult, or yes shock the studio audience. They claimed to own professional Gimps, Actual Sex Slaves, are pro Drugs, Pro Unsafe Sex, embrace STDS as badges of honor, humiliate and abuse their fans, and see nothing wrong with raping everyone in the entire world or some stupid shit like that.

The Controversy from their appearance on Jerry Springer garnered The Mentors some well needed attention.

I must remind the reader that The Mentors got a bit of notoriety from the bullshit they spewed on show, NOT THEIR MUSIC.

NUMBER THREE: AND NOTABLY THE THING THE MENTORS ARE KNOW FOR had nothing to do with the Band or their crappy music. The Mentors lead singer (Hoke had stopped playing drums as well as singing due to his raging alcoholism) was in a 1997 Documentary Film about the death of Nirvana Lead Singer Kurt Cobain called ‘Kurt and Courtney”

The Film dealt with Kurt Cobain’s unfortunate suicide. Many fans believed that the singers death wasn’t a suicide at all, but a homicide staged to look like one. Also many people believed not only was it murder they believed it was a murder for hire where the killer was contracted by no other than Kurt’s wife Courtney Love.

NOW this is were Hoke comes into the story. Hoke had repeatedly made the claim that Courtney Love offered him $25,000 to kill Kurt. The amount changed a bit over time and telling to $50,000 for the murder.

Hoke again made the claim of Love offering him cash to kill her husband Kurt Cobain on camera in the Documentary. Shortly after the filming Hoke was died while walking intoxicated on train tracks where he was hit and killed by a Freight Train.

I’m sure you can see where this going, but for shits and giggles most Mentor fans believe Hoke was murdered. Hoke’s death was officially ruled alternately an Accident and a Suicide by the authorities.

Yet most fans assume Hoke himself was murdered by someone hired by Courtney Love to shut Hoke up once and for all thus feeding into the conspiracy theory within a conspiracy theory. AGAIN THIS HAD NOTHING TO DUE WITH THE BAND’S MUSIC.

I will end this piece with proof that I adhere to the belief that one must give credit where credit is due. I have to give credit here the ONE thing The Mentors did/do thats not dumb as fuck is their idea/concept of wearing Medieval Executioner Masks, thats kind of dope.

All is All though The Mentors are still a Lame Ass Joke.

Thanks for Reading,

Les Sober

More Musical Mayhem & Madness

By now I think its safe to assume readers might have picked up on my fondness for Unconventional and Unorthodox Bands/Artists.

Some of those said Bands/Artists are:

GG Allin (Who was backed by numerous Bands and in various Bands)

Anul Cunt (Abbreviated AxCx)

Fuck The Facts

The Murder Junkies (The last Band to back GG Allin, BUT they are and always were their own separate entity)

Fuck I’m Dead (Previously Fuck…I’m Dead)

Now a couple of readers have asked if it was a mistake or an oversight that the band The Mentors are not listed, and IT’S NOT. I most definitely left them OFF THE LIST. I digress as the reason I left The Mentors of said list will be an upcoming post.

It has come to My attention that the only one who’s ever been acknowledged here at f-yourblog is GG Allin (Sometimes Pictures with Members or all of The Murder Junkies)

AND SO…..

I have decided the next Band Worthy of Mention is the Heavy Metal Punk Trio from Detroit Michigan.

AND NOW Ladies & Gentlemen I give you None Other than…..

(Which is no real surprise as I’ve peppered posts with Pictures featuring Shitfucker for quite some time now, and honestly thats why their the next to get their own post.)

I picked songs of Shitfucker’s Album “Suck Cocks In Hell” to Showcase Their Lyrical Style..

The 3 songs I picked are:

“Go To Hell”, “Smash Your Skull (Against The Wall)”, and “Demonic Rock”

Enjoy.

“Go To Hell” by Shitfucker:

It’s never too hot for Leather

Unless its too fucking hot

Trapped in the eyes of thy Neighbor

Infernal Mother of Death

She chokes on the smoke of our unholy tokes

Through the hole in her throat

She stares through my window

and stands on my lawn

You can’t understand her

because she speaks in daemonic tongues

Trapped in a glance with the Living Corpse

That lives Next Door

Chorus: Go to Hell, Go to Hell, Go To Hell, Hell, Hell

Play it loud, Play on Ten

Play it so you wake The Dead

I have awakened the Mother of the Reaper

Who has unleashed the Darkness Fever

Through my brain, down the drain

to The Pits with No Name

Where the most rotten pieces of shit

Finally go Insane…Go to Hell

-Chorus-

Uoy Lorthoc I, Me Lortnoc T’Nod Uoy*

(*And I have not a clue wtf that means so don’t bother to ask.)

“Smash Your Skull (Against The Wall)” by Shitfucker:

Masturbate upon the Alter

Unto Sigil Baphomet

Take my cum and energy

to Crush my Enemies

Putrefy the Putrid

The Filth and Walking Shit

Leave them Dead

And Rotting in the Earth

I want to cut and rip my sjin

And watch the blood start to begin

to drip into the cup from which I sip

Imagine your Death and I start to trip

Chorus: Smash Your Skull Against

Smash Your Skull Against The Wall

I collect the pieces of your skull

and scrape the brains right off the bone

I pack them deep into my bowl

Inhale and Reap your fucking Soul

Trample the weak under our chariots of steel

Crush thy Enemy with the Spirit of Metal

Bash the Bastards with the butt end of your sword

Leave him to rot in the humiliation of Himself

I throw this Curse with No Remorse

To the Death of my Enemies I shall rejoice

Smash your skull against the wall

Turn into a Spider

Away I Crawl

-Chorus-

“Demonic Rock” by Shitfucker:

Going to the Show to play out of control daemonic Rock’n Roll

All I need is a Bag of Weed and some Acid please

But we ain’t got no money ain’t got no ride out

But when we arrive it will be time to get

WASTED DAEMONIC ROCK

WASTED THE LAST ONES UP

It swirls magnificently I have held court with The Acid King

I have met The Rainbow Wizard and The Dark Lady

Messaged my bones

Daemonic Rock suck my cock

Detroit Metal Punks we do not give a fuck

Roll up we pull up all of us show up and the Natives throw up

Baldy says no he says we got to go we had to sleep in the Forrest

Fuck your pretty Town we will burn this City down

When we get back to the Wasteland it will be time to get

WASTED DAEMONIC ROCK

WASTED THE LAST DROP

I have seen the Light and its out of Sight

Do you know what its like to be dead it feels Alright!

They are whispering to me Deadly Visions flash constantly

Body Parts scattered amongst my room

Make good decorations for Halloween

Daemonic Rock suck my cock

Detroit Metal Punks We do Not give a Fuck

Fuck You you bet your Motherfucking Ass.

So thats all for now Kiddies.

STAY TUNED TO FIND OUT WHY THE MENTORS SUCK ASTRONOMICAL ASS Coming Up Next Here on f-yourblog

Orchestrated by Les Sober

GG ALLIN Pictorial Installment #3

Again Reader’s have been e-mailing Me additional Pictures of GG Allin for which I sincerely Thank Them ALL for doing.

Here is the latest Set of Pictures I have compiled from the last few months.

Alliteration Absurdity

Leering Lecherous Leapers Love Leaping Laughing Loudly Leering Lewdly Lusting Lasciviously. Legacy Lest Legend Lamenting Lavish Luxurious Lords Lividly Lie Leading Lacking Lively Lemmings. Lame Liquid Labor Lunatic Lyrical Leader Luckless Lineage Languishing Lethargy Lengthen Loyalty. Lordship Loathing Logic Likewise Lanquid Leisure Lowland Lectern’s Lowly Legitimate Letdown. Litigious Listless Leviathans Lawless Lunar Limbo’s Lonesome Lopsided Loyalties Loveless Leniency Linchpin’s Luridly Lynching Local Landless Laypeople Lifeblood Lost. Lightless Letterman’s Laborious Latitude Lakeshore Longitude’s Longshore Limelight Labyrinth’s Libation Legislates Lucrative Lobotomized Livestock Let Loose Legalized Leprechaun Loadmasters Lallygagging Logarithmic Lionhearted Locomotives. Legionaries Literal Legislature’s Limitless Ludicrous Laughingstock Lockstitching Lexiconologists’s Lucrative Laggardness.

Thanks for Reading

Les Sober

The Canned Meat & Alcohol Only Diet

A Friend of f-yourblog.com was kind enough to honor a previous request of Mine. The request was simply if your aimlessly surfing the Internet, and perhaps stumble upon some seriously weird shit please let me know. The Link the Reader forwarded me was to a Lithuanian website promoting one of the most bizarre Diets ever to be conceived.

It was called the Mesos Konserai ir Alkoholis Dieta which translates to The Canned Meat and Alcohol diet. Obviously the first part is a no brainer the dietary requirements where that you only eat canned meat. It does not restrict you to the type of canned meat it can be ANY and ALL canned meats currently available to the public were fair game. You could only drink Alcohol while on the diet, and again it did not restrict your type of Alcohol. Any and ALL Alcohols again available to the public were fair game. There is no timeline or duration for this diet as it seems to be more of an endurance contest than it is a legitimate diet.

I decided to try it and in the name of Sociology. Not only would I try it but I’d document it through pictures of what I ate/drank each day 4 times a day for 26 days strait.

Day 1:

Day 2:

Day 3:

Day 4:

Day 5:

Day 6:

Day 7:

Day 8:

Day 9:

Day 10:

Day 11:

Day 12:

Day 13:

Day 14:

Day 15:

Day 16:

Day 17:

Day 18:

Day 19:

Day 20:

Day 21:

Day 22:

Day 23:

Day 24:

Day 25:

Day 26:

After 26 days on the Canned Meat and Alcohol Diet I lost 31 pounds due to the fact I vomited almost half or all of what I ate 30 minutes after eating. Also I have never shit nearly as much as I did on this diet it was like a diarrhea Niagara fucking Falls pouring relentlessly out of my ass. Another side effect was all the alcohol totally disrupted my sleep schedule and after 10 days sleep deprivation became a very real issue. Last but not least again due to the excessive alcohol intake am now border line diabetic.

People ask was it worth it?

Honestly I don’t have a goddamn clue if it was.

Would You do it again?

In a word Yes. Life is a web of interlinked experiences, and this one was one for the history books.

Do You regret trying this diet?

No Not at All, I have NO regrets.

What about the Negative effects on your general health?

Everything has fucking side effects, go read the warning on the side of a bottle of Aspirin.

Thanks For The Read as Always,

Les Sober

A Fire Under My Arse

As I woke up feeling completely refreshed for the day at the everlastingly early hour of 9pm, I decided to do things different. This whole equinoxial load of crap had been taking its toll on me. Science says it has to happen but the far trappings of my mind are pure fire and brimstone.

Half and half? Half and half, you say? Well fuck that. Would you really want half and half in your daily life? I mean sure if you are my father you can put it in your coffee. The real world outside of your morning joe says oh the fuck no. Your wife is pregnant, so that is good. But the other half of you is on Maury being told emphatically, “You are NOT the father!!!!”.

You could have only gotten half the answers right on a test. You work at a bank and randomly decided to give half the people the right amount of money. You get halfway to an orgasm. So yeah the general principal does suck a hell of a fucking lot. I want things to be whole. I want myself to be whole.

Truth is when it comes down to it, we are all just a bunch of fragments bunched up into the frame that we were given. Molded together however we so choose to be.

Enough of the crap though this is not why I am really here. I am ready to have a bowel movement. The good kind. The kind a doctor would loom over the toilet bowl peer down at and say, “Why that is a healthy shit sir!”

Don’t you worry though my friend. I am not taking it on you, you or you (yes you, you lazy fuck you know who you are). My sphincter has its eye set on one person and one person alone. That is you Ms. Tori Amos. (thank you Less for getting me all riled up)

The thing is though I haven’t really always hated Tori Amos. In fact, I was one of her biggest fans. I bought all her albums, her b-sides, went to the shows. I even planned to follow her cross country, but alas that is an ill-fated tale for a blog never to be written.

I will say one nice thing about her though and a bit of a counterpoint to Less. Yes, her lyrics are extraordinarily vague but half of artists out there are vague as fuck and then the other half are Justin Bieber and friends. This is actually one of her stronger points. If it’s all spelled out in black and white sure more people might relate. Vagueness does inspire a certain group of haters. I should know I prefer to be vague as it is much better to maneuver around half truths, unspoken words, and the like.

Still though for years and years, I had this deep admiration for this woman. Call it youthful ignorance, call it what you may. I met some of the best friends I had ever had because of the love shared for her. It was a bit Me and A Gun. Other times it was a Sorta Fairytale and A Cloud on My Tongue.

That all changed on one fateful night. Ten years ago. I still remember it like it was yesterday. I got to meet my hero or well anti-hero. I did not know what to expect. Someone who was charming and wanted to meet her fans was a good start in my head. I did not want to come across as too cheery but who am I kidding? There is only person in the world who can make me that cheery. Thank you Molly.

This waif of a woman walked over. She was a hell of a lot fucking smaller then I had ever imagined. I mean she is a woman and I did not expect her to be Brienne of Tarth. She just looked like someone who I would walk up to on the street and be compelled to pull a cookie out of my pocket and feed to her. That cookie, you know, I may even have to chew it for her. I instantly knew what the song Girl Disappearing was about it. It was about this cokehead chick.

So you know the celebrity jitters like instantly wore off and my mom’s voice saying, “If you don’t have anything nice to say don’t say anything” came rushing through my head. My friend Taylor spouted off some kind of soapy bullshit and had me take a selfie. Then it was my turn. I may have said something nice or how my other friend plays her by ear I’m not really sure. She was just so uninterested that I kinda soaked in the same general vibe. Maybe she caught my aghast scowl.

That night changed me. It was like the last bit of childhood naivety being ripped from my chest. It started the moment I was 10 and found out on the news that the Tooth Fairy was a fraud. It ended with you Tori Amos.

I must say as uninterested as you were meeting the fans with your generalized look of Feed Me, I’m A Professional Widow on your face you did put on one hell of a show. In fact the best I had seen until I had the chance to witness Pearl Jam several years back. It was a cold rainy autumn evening and the playlist was reflective of the sort. Then the song that changed it all played. Famous Blue Raincoat. It was the song that played my innocence off the stage, out of the building, into the ether.

I cannot blame you for all this directly so maybe this blog is more of a Hershey squirt and less of a dirty Sanchez for you. I probably should be thanking Leonard Cohen just as much for that song, but it was you who took me there. I guess that song playing itself out with my one of my greatest loves I will ever have taking his life and the other love in my life rapidly becoming dead to me.

I could not relate as much to your music, mostly the new albums you dropped. In just that one moment, something shut off inside of me. It may be a good thing, there’s been more calculation and clarity since that moment. I guess opinions vary on the end of innocence.

Everything though about that night. I had to wear sunglasses at the show because of the lighting, I realized that my epilepsy was real and would have to live with it. Just so much of a flood of horseshit that at the time I could not even recognize. So Tori Amos… I have a few choice words for you. Fuck you. Thank you. I’ll Make Sure to Wipe.

By Spacedog