Tag: Brothers

For Shits and Giggles: “Existential Threat” By Sparks

I think its safe to say we have all had day’s where it seemed the universe has dropped its pants, and is taking a colossal cosmic crap on your entire fucking life.  Those are those days you spend going hour after fucking hour wondering “Why Me?” or “What the fuck did I do to deserve this bullshit?” as the universe plays a fucked up game of cat and mouse with your current reality. It can get so fucking intense that you may actually consider that you have somehow offended the Powers That Be (God, universe, fate and so on) and now are being punished in some bizarre manner.

This bring me to today’s post the official music video for ‘The Existential Threat’ by Sparks (also known as Halfnelson), taken from their 2020 album ‘A Steady Drip, Drip, Drip’. Sparks is an American pop and rock duo formed in 1967 consisting of brothers Ron Mael on Keyboards and Russell Mael on vocals. Sparks are known for their quirky approach to songwriting which is often accompanied by sophisticated and acerbic lyrics often about women or Shakespearean literature references, and an idiosyncratic, theatrical stage presence, typified in the contrast between Russell’s animated, hyperactive frontman antics and Ron’s deadpan scowling. The band is also noted for Russell Mael’s distinctive wide ranging voice and Ron Mael’s intricate and rhythmic keyboard playing style. Sparks  have been far more successful in Europe compared to their native United States, though the band maintains a loyal cult following American non the less.

The video for the song was done by none other than one of our favorite animators cyriak. Cyriak Harris, known Mononymously as Cyriak and His B3ta Username Mutated Monty (Harris has been a Regular Contributor to the British Website B3ta since 2004), is a British Freelance Animator and Composer. He is known for His Surreal, Creepy, and Bizarre Short Web Animations with the Frequent Use of the Droste Effect, and Features Original Dance/Electronic Music By Harris as Well.

Enjoy.

See You Around,

   Justin Sane   

Short Horror Film Friday: THE UMBRELLA FACTORY and JACK THE RIPPER

Welcome to this Weeks addition of Short Horror Film Friday. This Week We are Thrilled to Present and the Two In One Animated Feature THE UMBRELLA FACTORY and JACK THE RIPPER! Both Stories in the Video were Directed by Nick and Lexie Trivundza, Written by Nick Trivundza, and Produced by Lexie Trivundza.

The Umbrella Factory: Is Based on the Horror Short Story The Monkey’s Paw by W.W. Jacobs, and is a Cautionary Tale Warning People to be Careful what You Wish (for Because You Might Just Get It).

Jack The Ripper: Is a Modern Day Homage to the Historical Murders of The Legendary Serial Killer Known as Jack The Ripper.

Enjoy.

We Hope You Enjoyed these Tales of Bloody Terror as Much as We Did.

Thanks for Watching,

Presented By Les Sober  

Returning to Man the Keyboard

As Our Reader are readily aware at this point We have a tendency to how do You say Fall off the Face of the fucking Earth. For this Inconvenience We Wholeheartedly Apologize, and We will attempt to keep the Sporadic Disappearances to a Bare Minimum.

So if You possibly find Yourself pondering what exactly it is/was that We were up too while We were wondering in the Void I’ll tell You, well I’ll give You the Pertinent Points as there’s No Point in Me writing a bunch of Unnecessary shit, and You reading it.

I’m aware most if not All of Our Reader’s more than likely don’t give a shit, and would be happy if We just Stayed Put. You’ll have to Pardon Me then as My Mother raised Me with Manners. Manners are truly a thing of the Past as Manners DIED right after Chivalry.

        

Now its a bunch of Self Serving, Self Absorbed, and Self Centered Social Media assholes Who desperately want to become the next Big Social Media No Talent Scumbag Hack  or a greedy Youtuber twat who only cares about Monetizing Their fucking crappy Channel.

It’s all the same stupid shit. It’s the “Look at Me! Look At Me! I’m so interesting, I’m too talented, I’m God’s gift to fucking Humanity.” mentality. Take FaceBook for instance where assholes post constantly all fucking day long about:

Where They are (NO ONE GIVES A FUCK YOUR AT WALMART ASSHOLES)

What They Ate (ITS FUCKING FOOD NO BIG WHOOP)

Who They Saw or Did shit with (WHO CARES I DON’T KNOW THOSE SAD SACKS OF SHIT.)

What They’re Doing (SO FUCKING WHAT WE ALL HAVE SHIT TO DO.)

What Mood/Relationship Status is (I DON”T GIVE A FUCK WHO YOU FUCK OR HOW YOU FEEL BECAUSE YOUR A FUCKING FACELESS FAKE AS FUCK FB “FRIEND”)

Anyway I digress.

       

The First thing I for One was dealing with was I got into a Dispute meets Debate. Then when I became Irritated I was convinced a Thought I had had previously was In Fact absolutely right. I still believe this. As for what the fuck is the Reality of the Situation I believe (after conferring with My Wife) that it squarely falls on My Brother.  My Brother You see is really shit at making Decisions as He spends most of His time Precariously Perched on the Fence unwilling to set Foot on either Side.

I had initially thought My Brother’s Wife was playing a much larger part in the matter than She actually was/is. Though to be utterly honest I did spend a good deal of time trying to Demonize the shit out of Her for it. So be it.

I also had the distinct displeasure of seeing My Cardiologist for a 6 month check in to see if I’m Alive and Still Kicking essentially. There was a fucking Medical Student who for this particular appointment  was part of the Package. NOW YOU CAN simply tell said Student or the Doctor that You don’t want the fucking Student to sit in on YOUR Appointment with YOUR DOCTOR.

       

I know They have to fucking learn, but I view these Shadowing Exercises to be GLORIFIED FIELD TRIPS for Medical Students. I don’t want a complete fucking Stranger sitting in the fucking corner during My Appointment. I know this isn’t the popular PC answer that’s because its the fucking TRUTH.

The Student DOESN’T NEED TO BE PART OF THE APPOINTMENT because I’m talking to My Doctor about sensitive Personal Health History, Current Situation, and Future Treatment Plans such as Various Medications or Diagnostic Tests or perhaps Surgery. Your relationship with Your Doctor is fucking PRIVATE thats why Medical Records are LEGAL DOCUMENTS, and We have a little thing called DOCTOR-PATIENT CONFIDENTIALITY.

But I’ll Digress for Now.

       

The Biggest Challenge over the Last Week was the Shit Weather. A massive motherfucker of a Storm front came rolling through Our neck of the Woods. It was Overcast and Rainy along with Blustering Winds and Severe Thunderstorms. So needless to say Our Internet Connection Capabilities/ Service was Virtually Non Existent. It’s the One True Disadvantage to Living in the Middle of  No-Fucking-Where USA.  Hopefully things will Markably Improve Next Month when We switch Our Internet Provider.

The f-yourfilm “Shoot My Face Off, I Like It” (SMFO) Video Game Documentary has already turned into a Labor, No Burden of Love. This Project is not an easy to say the Least. I feel like some sort of fucking Gamer Spy or some insane shit. The Company that made the Game Vanished overnight, and it Removed almost every Scrap of Evidence that the Game ever in fact Existed at All.

       

To further make things difficult the Japanese Government ended up Outlawing SMFO and Did everything in It’s power to make any and all information pertaining to SMFO miraculously Disappear from Public Record. All Sites and Forums for SMFO along with any News Story or Article (Televised, In Print or Online) or Advertising pertaining to SMFO has apparently been Suppressed to the umpteenth degree.

We may just end up Posting a 6 part SMFO Series on What We have managed to scrape up by the skin of Our Teeth. Since We aren’t at all sure the Documentary will be able to Answer the Vast Majority of the Questions surrounding this Video Game Enigmatic Mystery. We shall See.

For those Who have commented on the LEE JONITIS: PROFESSIONAL PEOPLE WATCHER series Yes We fucked up and LJPPW faltered in Our goal of Daily Posts/Posting. We were concerned that New Reader’s may become confused or miss something because They might look at the Post List and think its a LJPPW centric Blog. We have had a sit down (by this I mean We sat around Our Favorite Bar and Brainstormed using Alcohol as Fuel for the Process) and here is what We decided.

       

The first thing We decided to due is Scrape the Failed Daily Post/Posting since its an exercise in Futility, BUT We knew We had to think of something. Quite Obviously the easiest thing to due was Limit the Number or Posts to Every Other Day. This seemed like a similar set up issue wise as the Daily Posting Deal. We certainly didn’t want to fuck up again so We kept Thinking and Drinking.

Someone suggested perhaps making just 2 LJPPW  Posts a Week One on Monday at the start of the Week, and One on Friday at the End of the week as well. This was Not at all a bad idea yet it seemed to be lacking something key. In the End We agreed LJPPW feels like a Sunday Comic like Dick Tracy and Tarzan from The Past in Print. Thats to say its an ongoing Story but like with Sunday Comic or Television Shows its contained to a single Episode Per Week. That Episode will be Posted every SUNDAY starting with this Coming One (6/30)

      

Thats All We got for Now So Stick With US and See Were It Goes.

Thanks for Reading,

  By Les Sober

The Bastard Brothers of BarFly

Back in the day when I was a real son-of-a-bitch I had the great displeasure of knowing The Bastard Brothers of Barfly for a few miserable months. First off BarFly barely constitutes a town out in “the boonies” of TCM. BarFly is such a tiny,tiny bankrupt micro town its not even a small dot on the map, and  the people’s  families/friends of BarFly residents received enthusiastic emails when the town got a 2nd traffic light for Christ’s sake. As you can imagine there isn’t diddly shit for the youth of BarFly to do but drink, fuck, vandalize, smoke weed, loiter and drive around the rural landscape of nothingness that is BarFly.

The Bastard Brothers are a classic example of the youth of BarFly, but I’m sure by now BarFly has developed or died providing a much more active environment. The older brother was named Bell-End who was the most transparently fake as fuck person I have ever run across in my chaotic travels.

This story unfolds in a time before smart phones and social media when Headbangers still existed in diminishing tribes but where a dying breed since Seattle ejaculated Grunge music and flannel in the face of America. Now Bell-End was a wannabe metalhead he had the long hair, played guitar, smoke’n drank, wore jeans with torn knees, and a lame denim vest (a jacket he had cut the sleeves off of, he missed the memo stating sleeve removing is for t-shirts not jackets the moron) covered with band patches (such as Metallica, Motorhead, Anthrax etc.) ultimately he was a shitty sheep in metal clothing. Not only that but he has a condescending, egotistical, snide “I’m gods gift to the fucking world” smarter than all attitude ,but in reality he was just a lame legend in his own minuscule mind.

His younger brother Dingus was not any better then his big brother accept he was a scumbag of a different shitty color. Dingus has short man’s insecurities all Napoleon complex and shit because the guy is 5 foot nothing. Dingus dropped out of high school in the 10th grade to hangout 24/7 attached at the hip with a scummy emo goth chick named Slutica When I say attached at the hip I mean it in the most extreme stereotypical manner, you NEVER saw one without the other being no more than 3 feet away like the pair of codependent cocksuckers they still are.

This particular cool fall evening I was loitering my balls off outside the one and only connivence store/ gas station in BarFly called the Bub’s Gas’n Grub in the entirely vacant lot somewhere around 8 pm or so. My buddy Slaytanic who had be relentlessly hounding the pay phone (yes they too still existed in limited numbers as cell phones evolved society) trying to find something, anything to do other than what we were currently up to. Slaytanic finally reached The Bastard Brothers on his mental rolodex and found out the two douche bags had a party ball of Schidt. The Brothers also claimed to have in their possession a bag of Northern Lights so if we needed something to do Slaytanic and I could stop by The Brother’s house since their parents were off visiting relatives. After a brief no brainer consultation Slaytanic and I were walking our way over to The Bastard Brother’s parents place.

Once Slaytanic and I arrived Bell-End announces that the two twats had decided to charge everyone $20 to party. This was beyond stupid as fuck for two key principals 1 being imposing a last minute party tax is like a bullshit cover charge, and we’re in BarFly not NYC. The 2nd principal being the Brother’s claim to marijuana fame (Yes again there wasn’t ANY legal weed medical or otherwise.) which was blatant bullshit. There was not a chance in all the religious hells the 2 twits could have gotten their grubby hands on Alaskan high grade shit. What The Brother’s had was what everybody had Mexican brick weed which is very low quality shit (especially by todays standards), and were simply lying to try to warrant their $20 turd tax. Not to mention this was the farthest thing from a party as it was the 2 Bastard Brothers, Slaytanic, myself and one other person who also was a good friend of mine named Space Dog.

It was not just the fact I was hanging at the home of 2 colossal cockbangers but it was the surprise last second tax that just royally chapped my ass, and thus kicked off my rampage of drunken revenge. I had had enough at this point of the to Bastard Brothers with their endless torrent of complete horse shit and even shittier personalities. To get the ball rolling I decided to pound beers like an alcoholic yeti until they went down like water. The entire group adjourned to the backyard at one point to smoke the alleged (and yet totally fake ass) Northern Lights aka dirty ditch weed. After smoking it was back to slamming beers like I was trying to keep Schidt beer from going into bankruptcy until the beer finally ran out. We had been hanging out in the Bastard Brother’s garage but without beer our rag tag group of miscreants headed inside to the basement, thats when I knew the shit was going to reach absolute apeshit levels.

In the interest of time and due to the fact I can’t remember the minor details I present you with a list of pertinent highlights.

  1. I sat down on the crappy couch in the basement (which is where we ended up) propping my foot on the coffee table while holding onto an imaginary steering wheel. When Slaytanic questioned what I was doing exactly I respond by damn near yelling “I’m DRIVING my car MOTHERFUCKER you gonna get in or what?!”
  2. I walked over to the out dated tv with an archaic VCR on top of it. Once I reached the VCR i flipped it upside down and proceeded to start unplugging cords by ripping them forcefully from their various attachments. Again when asked by Slaytanic what the hell I was up to I glared at him and demanded to know “How do you get into this thing?!!!”
  3. In the drunk urinary tradition I wondered over to the water heater and promptly started pissing all over it as well as the floor.
  4. I violently and voraciously vomited in the kitchen sink clogging the holy hell out of it with chunks of regurgitated fish sticks (I had at this time managed to escape from the confines of the basement and was freely walking around The Brother’s parent’s house.)
  5. I was quickly escorted back to the basement where I stumbled into The Brother’s Mother’s at home pottery making shop. Turned out she was really into making clay pots and shit as a relaxing hobby. Now the mother had lined the walls with those cheap rickety metal shelves (not to mention the cheap selves where lined up around the room not just against the wall). They were the kind you see in industrial warehouses anyway she used them for storing her clay pots in various stages of completion . I decided I needed to sit down so I attempted to sit but ran into a serious issue. I tried to sit on one of the shelves but my ass and lower back got sort of stuck so I got trapped in a squatting position. When I stood up I incidentally shoved the self back (thanks Einstein ya dick) and the entire book shelve of clay pots came crashing down in a hailstorm of homemade havoc. Every one of those pots hit the cement basement floor and exploded sending clay fragments flying in every direction.
  6. The next morning after crashing in the basement I went upstairs to make the bladder gladder when I ran into The Bastard Brother’s parents The Dullards. Now the Dullard’s had arrived home an hour or so before our encounter, and they were staring intently at me as if to ask “Who is this bum in our house?!” I hate people staring at me period not to mention I also was insanely hungover and no longer gave a shit about any of it. I turned my head as I passed them on the way to the crapper I stated in brutally blunt honesty “What me? Your sons are the real assholes here.” In all do favor I was made aware before hand that The Dullard’s hated my specific race so thats why I gave them a face full of shit, fuck’em their racists.

Around the crack of noon Slaytanic, Space Dog and I walked off into the sun rise never to see The Bastard Brothers or their racist parents The Dullards ever again, and I for one couldn’t be happier.