this machine is toooo fucking expensive

I want to play the guitar. My guitar is a piece of shit though. It sucks. It used to be okay, and for a while it was ‘decent’ but here’s the thing: it’s a cheap guitar and I’ve had it for twenty years. It’s no longer good, but for the longest fucking time it was good enough, which prevented me from upgrading it. “It’s just for dicking around with at home” I told myself. “I don’t need anything more than this crappy epiphone. WELL, guess what? I do. Now, my guitar is kind of fucked up and hard to play and I’m old, and the idea of having a nice guitar kind of excites me. And that’s cool. I mean, I’ve got a couple of really nice basses. Why not have a nice guitar too, right? I’ll tell you people why. Because those shits are fucking expensive, that’s why. I went to four (FOUR!) shops yesterday and I couldn’t find anything that wasn’t embarrassingly reprehensible for under fifteen hundred bucks. Who do they think I am? The sultan of Brunei? Tim McIlrath? I mean, come on. Waste of time, that’s what that shit was.
My wife has been out of town for a week and she comes home today. I’ve got dead hookers all over this place and the dogs and the kid have just been running free, shitting wherever they want/can and scavenging food from the floor. I’ve gotta go to work in fifteen minutes and I don’t really know how I’m gonna ‘spruce up the gash’ so to speak, before she gets home. What’s a good lie to tell to your wife when she confronts you with your pile of dead hooker parts? “Uh, I’m letting the med students house some cadavers here while they clean out the cooler at Northwestern. Hey! I’m an alum! What was I gonna do?” nah. Chances are good she’d bring up the decomposing flesh and the baby and the maggots and all that. I gotta hire a maid. That’s all there is to it. But a man maid, someone with some strength and guts. Steve Segal, maybe, or Bruce Willis.
Fuck. My head’s not in the game today. After my hideous experience with the guitar shopping, I juggled my kid for a few hours and then went to band practice way after I should have already been asleep. The falcon, my other band, is playing a secret (shhhh!) show tomorrow, and we had to get the dust off our dicks and relearn the songs. The good thing about the falcon and the bad thing about the falcon are the same: we just have a few songs. That makes it easy to practice and write a setlist, but hard to change up too much. Whatever. The songs are all golden hits about sucking penises in back alleys or down on the docks and drinking strong drinks to sanitize your tonsils afterwards. Don’t know if you guys knew that, but it’s true. Oh, there’s some anti religious, anti stupidity, and pro stupidity jams too. For those of you keeping score. Whatever. They’re almost all getting played tomorrow (and a couple of surprises! Yay!) so come on down, provided you already have tickets, that is. Shit’s private, yo. So you can’t just show up and get in. Plus, it’s in a secret location. How’s THAT for classing up the shit? MmmmHmmm.

As you all may or may not remember, I give advice here too. Recently, one of my dogs of war wrote in for advice. Seems he dumped his long term old lady for the chick that he’s been pining over for years, who also happens to be his GF’s close friend. The problem arose when the new chick wanted to take shit slow. He freaked, because he’s used to being in a long term relationship, and wanted to know if he should patch shit up with his ex or go for the casual dating with the new chick, though the casual nature of it made him uncomfortable. THEN, he wrote in to say that I could just forget about the advice because they neither one want anything to do with him anymore.
Well. Well. Well. What do you think I have to say to this?
Sounds to me like he engineered the switcheroo pretty well (they ended up making out and then severing ties with their various significant others) but then something went wrong. What was it? Hmmmmmm….Anyone? Bueller?
Confidence, man. You can do anything you want. It’s like the fucking invisible bridge in the Last Crusade. If you just have faith that it’s there, it WILL carry you through to the other side. This dude was NOT confident with casually dating a new girl (which, let’s be frank, you HAVE to do. You can’t just start up with a new chick where you left off with the old one. Doesn’t work that way.) and the results? Everything blew up in his face. No one wants to see effort or strain or uncertainty. You can look at a man’s suit as an example of this. People don’t want to see the way it gets put on. That’s why the belt goes over the clasp, the tie goes over the buttons and the collar goes over the tie. The illusion of impossible simplicity. No one wants to see the effort. Confidence is the ONLY WAY TO IMPRESS UPON OTHERS THAT YOU ARE WORTH A SHIT. AND, once again, IT IS THE ONLY THING THAT ALL (I wish I could make that ‘all’ even more capitalized), REPEAT, ALL WOMEN FIND ATTRACTIVE. Nine times out of ten if you’re having a problem, it’s because you’ve failed to understand this simple and applicable maxim. This time, this was it.
Okay, these corpses aren’t gonna stuff themselves into hefty bags. Gotta run.
xo

I'm a mofuckin cash money millionaire

Good morning. It’s Monday and I couldn’t be happier to be rapping at you turds and turdettes today. I’m currently jamming some Asia (heat of the moment) and drinking a little coffee. Last night I was trying to convince my friend Matt about the greatness of Lil’ Wayne and he (understandably) was having none of it. He said he didn’t ‘get it’ which I dig. That shit’s not for everyone. But it made me realize something and it sort of knocked my entire pompous sensibility on its ass.
See, I’m a dismissive prick when it comes to consumption, and there’s lots of things out there that I don’t get. AND, and this is the key point, I sort of feel smug and superior about not getting certain things. “Oh, you like Nirvana, eh…” I’ll think, “well, I guess I just don’t get it (and, frankly, that’s because secretly, it sucks and your taste is unrefined, lame, terrible etc.)” You’re familiar with this train of thought, no? Sure you are. It’s not just music either. What about your great uncle that cooks spam in the frying pan? What about your friend that watches Twilight? What about your buddy who collects stamps or obsessively watches NASCAR or whatever it is? It’s everywhere. Something in this popular consciousness has turned everyone into smug, superior cocksuckers. Everyone. Me included.
But last night, while I was listening to Lil’ Wayne and talking to Matt, I realized something huge, and I texted it to myself so I wouldn’t forget it. This is the text, verbatim:

“The superior perspective isn’t the one that doesn’t get it, but the one that does.”

Now, this is no dig on matt, nor is it some new way for me to feel superior to someone because they’ve pooh-poohed something I enjoy, (because let’s face facts, in much the same way that not liking something makes us feel superior, liking something that everyone laughs at you for liking is a bummer of a feeling). In fact, Matt’s a brilliant guy and he has every reason in the world to not legitimately like Lil Wayne and I’m not questioning that but I AM suggesting that he’s missing out by not liking it. Same with everyone who doesn’t like everything. This world is a shitstorm of sadness, decay, hatred, whimsical tragedy and ugliness. There are so few things out there that are enjoyable, the idea that NOT enjoying something is some sort of claim to superiority is just fucking foolish. It’s sort of like when I realized how ass backwards the morality of the Puritans was. Suddenly up is down, good is bad, cats and dogs are living together, man. This shit’s the same. All these smug hipster dipshits (of which I am, unfortunately, one) that are too cool for school who condescend to us because we enjoy J Lo or Nickelback or Monday Night Football or Taco Bell or (god forbid!) something that’s on television, they’re the ones who can’t make the jump to see the good in something and thereby enjoy it. They’re the ones lacking the ability to process consumption into enjoyment, they’re the ones who will never know the visceral emotion that (for example) rushes into me when I’m listening to Lil’ Wayne really loudly. And that’s not better. That’s worse. There’s NOTHING cool about not being able to enjoy something. Nothing at all.
Now, this isn’t to say that people aren’t allowed to dislike something, or that they’re stupid for not liking it. To go back to my original situation, Matt doesn’t like Lil’ Wayne. I’m not suggesting he’s dumber than me, or that his intellect is dimmer or that I’m better than him or anything like that. That would be stupid. I AM suggesting that he’s the one missing out by not liking it, and that makes his existence that much less enjoyable. Sure, it’s infinitesimal, but it’s the kind of thing that adds up if it runs rampant all over every facet of your life. I don’t know, man. It’s strange. There’s no reason that the idea that enjoying something is better than not enjoying it should be a statement that even needs to be made, but that’s how fucking stupid and twisted our times are, folks. I’m revolted by all of us.
Oh, and obviously this isn’t the kind of thing that holds true in extreme circumstances. Like, for example, kid porn or torture or Skrewdriver records or whatever. There’s lots of fucked up shit out there that’s a product of hate and evil and that shit’s obviously antithetical to what I’m talking about, so gimme a fucking break you goddamn lawyers. Jesus. Try to bring a little perspective out and all anyone wants to do is talk semantics.
Fucking vultures. Forget I said anything.