Top Ten Albums of 2009

10) Animal Collective: "Merriweather Post Pavilion" This album is futuristic, trippy, and catchy as all hell. At first, I was skeptical, but soon realized I was playing the fool again. The vibes coming out of this album are hypnotizing. They put you in trance with soulful sounds and a Beach Boys like harmony. No wonder why so many of friends cannot get enough of this magical band. Take shrooms and ecstasy and listen.
9) 3 Inches of Blood: "Here Waits Thy Doom" When I first heard this album, I was in a state of complete drunkenness and that is a great feeling when it comes to listening to metal. I was shaking my fist and screaming along with the lead singer, Cam Pipes. Holy fuck he does have some amazing pipes. He sounds a lot what I would imagine Rob Halford would sound like after he got kicked in his dongles and got extremely fucking pissed. They have an epic sound that is unmatched, but at the same time the album sounds like it is coming straight from a London dungeon. Worship these Canadian bastards.
8) Immortal: "All Shall Fall" Another fucking epic black metal album by one of the greatest black metal bands to ever chop off the heads of nuns and priests alike. It's about goddamn time, too, because these fucks haven't blessed us with an album for over seven fucking years. And the atmosphere on this album, although a bit toned down from "At the Heart of Winter," they create with the guitars alone is unmatched and it leaves me hanging by a noose in an icey funeral home. This shit is catchy and that is damn near an impossible achievement for most black metal bands. One last thing, I love you Immortal. Don't ever keep me waiting that long again.
7)Skeletonwitch: "Breathing the Fire" I reviewed this album on one of my earlier posts, so fucking read it and get your mammy rammer on to the next album.
6) Royce Da 5'9: "Street Hop" Reviewed this fucking album too, so read it or you can as Royce put it "swallow everything that's coming through this dick."
5) ABSU: "ABSU" Holy shit! This is hands down the best black/thrash metal band the US has to offer. I cannot say enough about this band or this album. This is some of the fastest drumming I have ever heard in my life and some of the weirdest shit ever compiled on a album by a metal band. Can somebody tell me what the hell "Nunsbarshegunu" means? Anyways by the far the best song to break your neck to on their first c.d. in over eight years is "those of the void will re-enter." That is pure fucking metal that no one else in this country has the balls to stand up to.
4)Raekwon: "Only Built 4 Cuban Linx Pt. II" The Wu tang is back. Raekwon made another classic. This album is five mics, no doubt. Every song has the dopest beats and rhymes ever compiled on wax. If the Chef doesn't make another album, it won't matter because he is a legend with a perfect record. This is the hip hop album of the year. There is no question about that. Of course, it helps when you have RZA and Dr. Dre behind the scenes making me jizz in my pants with each and every listen.
3) Them Crooked Vultures: "Them Crooked Vultures" They have the song of the year for me, "Bandoliers." I can listen to this song over and over and over again. Besides that, it's part Queens of the Stone Age, part Dave Grohl, part Led Zepplin, nuff said.
2) Devildriver: "Pray for Villains" I listened to this album more than any other album to come out this year. I had to, plus how can you go wrong when you are worshiper of villains yourself. This album is groovy, catchy, and addicting. They incorporate all the sub genres of metal and make it work. Devildriver is just getting better and better and I am becoming more and more of a fan. How can I not? Listen to "I've Been Sober," or "Waiting for November," or "any fucking song on the album" and tell me I'm wrong.
1) Alice in Chains: "Black Gives Way to Blue" Alice is back with a black singer and, thankfully, as depressing as ever. It's a fucking pity that Layne Staley died, but they moved on and even did a tribute song to him with non other than Elton John. This guys can do no wrong. If it's acoustic, then it's beautiful in every sense of the word and makes you want to cry and if it's loud, then you'll want to rip your hair out and bang your head against the walls until they are covered with blood. I cannot get enough of Alice in Chains. They are timeless. They are classic. Everyone should be listening to the best rock band to come out of the 90s until everyone finally sinks into their grave.

An Unusual Proposal

The moon was above,
white fire burning in the midnight sky
and I was down,
beneath the flames,
walking and thinking,
thinking way too much for comfort.

I had an endless list of tragedies,
they circled and circled,
I was their prey.
They stalked my every step,
they controlled my every thought.

Lost,
I eventually gave up
and soon there was nothing,
just the white fire
lighting my way home.

A leaf blew past me on the ground,
or what I thought resembled a leaf.
I walked over to it.
The leaf talked to me, "Hello there,"
it said.

Traumatized,
I could not believe my eyes.
The time had finally come,
I had truly lost my mind,
I was trapped, suffocating in a body bag of hallucinations,
there was no other explanation.
Why did I ever think it was a leaf?
The leaf was never a leaf,
all along I knew it was the severed head of a woman.

Putting a stop to my confusion,
She turned to me and smiled.

She was mesmerizing,
her eyes were overflowing with love,
her hair, as dark as the bottom of the ocean,

Danced in the wind,
her face was that of a goddess with a bloodless complexion.

I was overwhelmed,
concrete poured into my mouth.
For some sick, twisted reason
I was infatuated by the vulgar,
yet heavenly face.

"Hello there," she spoke again softly,
"My name is Jayne. What is your name brown sugar?"
"I'm not sure," I mumbled,
"I'm not sure of much of anything right now."
I closed my eyes.
I thought I must be dreaming,
none of this seemed real.

I opened my eyes again,
only to discover
she was using her teeth to crawl on the ground,
and with each bite
I could hear them grind on the pavement.

She stopped her hideous walk,
"I'm invisible," she said.
I responded with curiosity, "Really?"
She continued,
"Can you see me?"
"Unfortunately, yes."
"How about later tonight? In your pants?"

What kind of a disgusting fantasy was this?
What kind of nightmare would come to me like this?
I was absolutely deranged.
There was no hope for me,
there never was.

Her advances weren't over,
"Well, how about a drink for starters?"
I had been craving one all day,
so I gave in,
"What the hell?" I said, "I have nothing to lose."

I picked up Jayne's decapitated head.
We were on our way,
beneath the flames,
two lovers
throwing caution to the wind.
"By the way," I asked,
"Do you piss out of your neck?"

Album Review: Royce Da 5'9" Street Hop

First and foremost, let me say this album is unfuckwitable. Royce Da 5'9"'s album "Street Hop" proves that this MC is about to take the entire hip hop community by storm and there ain't a damn thing Jay-Z, Eminem, Kangay or any one of them overpaid cocksuckers can do about it. This did not happen over night. Royce had to pay his dues over and over again.
After getting released from a DUI charge earlier this year and a series of flops, his talent had to be unleashed fully on all of its unsuspecting listeners. He went into the studio to chop heads off and he did it with ease. It certainly helped that the legendary DJ Premier was his executive producer. Primo definitely brought out his talent because this album is a classic from front to back.
There are too many reasons why "Street Hop" should be the top hip hop album of the year, but I will only tell you a few, for the sake of your time and mine. First, he's a lyrical mastermind and he proves it without a doubt on every track. Second, is the subject of his rhymes. He's fucking everywhere. He also has an amazing storytelling ability that would put most rappers on welfare. Then, he talks about the most ridiculous subjects other rappers wouldn't touch with a tazer. For example, he claims he's a rapist, a homicidal maniac, a headbanger, a terrorist, a trader, a role model, and a suicidal nudist, all in one song. Third, the self proclaimed, "biggest criminal in the world," has the beats to backup his lyrical prowess. His club bangers, which I am not a fan of normally, had my head bobbing as if I was sucking Ron Jeremy's dick and when Primo steps up to the production, especially on "Something 2 Ride 2," the results left my brains scattered against the project's brick wall. The only other comparison that would even come close to this reaction would be the first time I heard the Primo beats on Illmatic.
You want more?
Fourth is his guest appearances. Sure, most of the names don't ring a bell, but Slaughterhouse(his hip hop super group) is killing every MC in their path and eating their guts like hot, greasy bacon(this would not be the first time they were in deep shit with PETA). Slaughterhouse, represented by Royce, Crooked I, Joe Budden, and Joell Ortiz, is a lyrical massacre. No rap group out there, right now, can eat more pussy and destroy more mics than these four rappers. They are what help make this album damn near perfect. What does push this album past mics is the last track, "Hood Love," which features Bun B of UGK. It is as smooth as butter loaded with heroin. When I listen to the close of "Street Hop," I can't help, but push my seat back and let the music possess me, control my thoughts, hold onto the steering wheel, and drive.
I salute Royce for making a hood classic and recommend, or rather, command everyone to buy or download this shit. Regardless of whether or not you like hip hop, you do not want to miss out on listening to a hip hop legend in the making.

More ChiTown Stories

Coming up in the Room of Dreams: Review of Royce Da 5'9"s album STREET HOP(quite possibly the best hip hop album of the year) and of the Australian Western THE PROPOSITION(a brutal and beautiful movie). In the meantime, I have yet another wonderful story for you about Chicago. It involves drunkenness at it's finest and blackest. Charles Bukowski would be proud of me or he could be rolling over in his casket. I am not too sure, so I will let my meager followers be the judge.

I Think I Was Somewhere in Chicago

"Where's the nearest station?"
I asked the bouncer outside of the bar.
"It's right there," he pointed.
My bloodshot eyes followed
his long, spinning finger.
"Just two blocks ahead of us. Can't you see it?"
"I can see double," hiccup,
"I think."
"OK.
Well, you take care now."

I stumbled away
and even though the station was right in front of me,
I got lost.

Taxis were racing up and down the marooned streets,
so I pulled myself together
and flagged one of the yellow, speeding devils down.
When he stopped,
I put my hand on the door handle
and pulled,
only to slip,
land on my ass,
and smack the back of my head on the sidewalk.

The brown driver gave me a suspicious look and asked in a friendly voice,
"Are you ok?"
I started crying.
I was in stitches,
laughing and laughing and laughing
at myself.
"I feel better than a horse's cock in a virgin's ass."

My drunken legs managed to get up,
fall down,
then get up again.
I finally got it,
"Take me to Millennium Park. I'm staying right next to there."
"You got it friend."

He started the meter and took off into the empty night.

I looked down
in my wallet
to see if I had enough money to cover the ride.
It was as empty as the night.
No driver's license,
no debit card,
no credit card,
no money,
just a picture of my younger cousin
staring back up at me.

"Oh shit," I said under my breath.
"What was that?"
"Nothing.
Listen, would you be a darling and turn on the radio. I need some music right now."
The sounds of country music
seeped through the speakers.
It was a perfect way to end a forgetful night.
Now all I needed was the icing,
so I rested my head on my hands
and threw up in my lap.

Another Fucking Miserable Poem

A Thought Not to Forget

My father's dead,
his head was smashed in by a 4,000 pound beast.
My brother's dead,
his necked was snapped in the backseat of a speed freak's car.
My friends are dead,
they're being carried away
by the idle hands of the reaper
to be burned in their caskets,
one by one,
right before my very eyes.

My mother is dying,
her gigantic heart is withering away,
her once strong mind is now decaying,
her entire soul is falling to pieces,
right before my very eyes.

There is absolutely nothing I can do,
but I am not looking for sympathy,
I am not searching for
heaven. Hell,
I do not even want a better life.

What I do want
is for all my dying friends and family to know
that
heaven is right here
with me,
with you,
right before our very eyes,
hell is also here
with us,
reflecting flames in our eyes, but
as we crawl on our battered flesh and broken bones
toward our final resting place,
six feet below
our lives and our dreams,
I can safely say
I am happy,
always have been happy
and more than grateful
I got to spend
as much time as I could
with all of you.

The Miami of Canada

Awhile back my shallow soul of an ass was traveling in the "Windy City." I was lucky enough to be staying at a friend's parent's house in Oak Park for free. Every night I had to decide whether I wanted to practice a lil autoerotica asphyxiation or go out into the cursed streets of Chicago and get drunk and maybe catch a band perform. My decision, unfortunately, was usually the latter. After the show and drunken debauchery, I would stumble around downtown until the sun came up.
During these stumbles, I would run into the people of the night, mainly fellow drunks and the homeless. There were threats of violence, good conversations, and dope deals. I happened to get ripped off a couple of times during these transactions, but that didn't bother me much because they needed the money more than I did and I would probably spend it on useless bullshit anyways, so I guess it was a fair trade. Then, I would take the long route home on the EL Train back to Oak Park.
On my way back, there would be homeless people sleeping on the train. It was a hopeless scene that made me cry many nights for these broken and luckless souls. What was even shittier about their situation was that they would get kicked off the train after the security guards caught onto them. Then, they would have to find somewhere to sleep on the unforgiving streets. I'd often walk past them at night when it was snowing or raining and wonder how courageous these people must be and how come I could not do more to help them out. I know I could not live on the streets and I am very fortunate because I have a very supporting family, but they don't have anybody. They are lost, abandoned, and forgotten and my heart goes out to all of them. One day, I hope, things turn around for them and they get off the streets and live a fulfilling and blissful life.

Watching the Deserted Down

To look and see their pain, agony, tears,
is to look at human life.
I cannot bear to even glance.
I always have to turn the other way and
hide my own tears of sorrow.

Where can the abandoned go?

They sleep on trains throughout the night,
but often get kicked off
because "filth" can only travel so far in the city.
Then, they are left to wander and search
for a new place to sleep
on the piss filled streets.

They are left alone,
no family, no friends,
alone
walking an endless mile in a lost life.

Helpless,
I wish I could something, anything,
besides stare.

There should be only happiness and hope,
instead
all that's left is poison and despair.
What a crying shame,
all of us are to blame.
Maybe someday it will all turn around,
who knows the sun may shine for everyone tomorrow?

You and I know
tomorrow will be nothing, but rain.
The deserted will drown in it.
And I can only stare,
stare at all of them
with a broken heart
and nothing to offer.

2012

Let's talk about it. People say that December 21, 2012 will be the death of us all. Their words never cease. Their mouths never shut. They repeat over and over again that we all are doomed. They say: All of the Earth's volcanoes will explode and melt our flesh clean off the bone, massive earthquakes will destroy all of our homes and history to a mere pile of rubble, and what is left will be washed away by monstrous tidal waves. After mother nature's wrath is complete and nothing remains, an asteroid, the size of the moon and thrown by God himself, will hit the Earth and eradicate what is left of our planet from the face of the Universe, as if we never existed. An even more dreadful fact, is that there's going to be a big blockbuster movie about this infamous date. Once this happens, 2012 will be believed by millions more that this will truly be the end of the world.
I would have to disagree with this claim and I have proof to back this up, although it's not much. For example: what happened with Y2K anyone? Or the thousands of other predictions that came and went with a gentle breeze? Come on, if 2012 really was the final year of our existence, then why in the fuckity fucking fuck are we still acting like a bunch of worthless buffoons? Shouldn't we be going absofuckinglutely insane? Shouldn't there be random, unpunished murders, psychotic animals on acid, and loose shit cutters out and about roaming the decomposing streets? Shouldn't we all be in sheer terror of the end? Shouldn't we be, at least, quitting our worthless jobs and experiencing and loving every last second of our undone lives? Shouldn't we? Anything? What strange turds we all are.
I have had dreams about the end of the world and I have even written some poetry about it based on those dreams. Maybe some of the lucky ones that have accepted this tragic end, will read this poem and get some inspiration. Maybe? I have many doubts and little evidence, but there is hope. We could still be the lucky generation that gets to see what so many others have missed. I am crossing my fingers for:

My Crowning Moment

Here it is,
at last,
a sight for aching eyes,
the end, the end of all things.

I stand up, embracing it.
I'm naked in my mother's bedroom,
but she has already met the end of her days.
I take a drink from the bottle and sigh.

My cock and me, both, walk and take a final glimpse of this wretched world.
The sky is radiant,
I have never seen it quite like this before,
I have never realized its true beauty,
the clouds of white perfection,
the birds that soar above like feathered angels,
the immaculate blue that reaches the heavens.
This unforgettable scene
I know
will soon be gone,
but nothing is wrong,
our fate is sealed.

Time to begin.

I casually make my way to the bed,
"Show me your asshole,"
I say with a grin.
I don't know who she is
or
how we met,
but none of this matters,
I don't think it ever has.
She bends over and puckers
her pleasant brown star in front of my face.
A bomb goes off.
I see it in the distance as perfect as the clouds,
a gigantic mushroom kissing the sky,
another beautiful sight before my aching eyes,
as I begin the rhythms of love,
in and out,
in and out.

The world continues to dissolve,
but love fills the air
at these final moments,
the last of my life,
something I have been waiting for,
for a long,
long time.

Horror Movie Review

Well, it's that time of year again, when zombies vomit forth from the mouth of Lucifer and feast on the tongues and breasts of all who roam the dark streets at night. It's also a time to watch nothing but piss your pants horror movies. I happen to watch these types of movies all year round, so it's just another morbid day for me.
I said in my last post that I was going to view a movie entitled, "Slaughtered Vomit Dolls." And I did for about 20 minutes, then I threw up in disgust. This movie sucked the curly, pink dick of a pig that just rolled around in his own feces. When the images of a naked, semi decent looking prostitute on a toilet appeared on my computer, I'll admit my eyes grew bigger. Then nothing really happened after that. So, I shut that horrible movie off and scoured the internet for hours in search of another not-so-well-known horror movie that would wash the taste of that other god awful movie out of my mouth.
Mouth? What's in a mouth? The tongue, gums, halitosis, leftover sperm, and teeth. Let me ask you this, are teeth found in other parts of the body? Well, according to the movie I found, there is and the incisors, molars, eyeteeth, and wisdom teeth can all be found in the bearded ax wound aka slice of heaven aka gash aka vagina. Sad, but true teeth can be found there and I could not wait to feast my eyes on the fancy panties that were on the stars of the movie, "Teeth".
The star or freak of "Teeth", played by Jess Weixler, Dawn, is a spokesperson for Christain Abstinence Group and that is a blessing considering what would happen if someone stuck their penis inside her.
This movie is hilarious and unforgettable and that is a remarkable achievement bearing in mind that this is director's Mitchell Lichtenstein's debut. He does a outstanding job at keeping me entertained throughout the entire movie, especially when Dawn's brother is introduced in the film. He is a riot. He only fucks girls in the ass, smokes weed, and listens to metal(no this character is not based on me).
One day Dawn tries to have serious conversation him, but like their relationship, it's hopeless and distant. He says he knows who she has been saving herself for and of course, he says it's himself and that he wants her to get naked and sit her pretty lil ass on his bed. She runs off getting nothing out of this "heart to heart."
Then, it happens. She goes off into this watering hole with her newfound lover and one kiss leads to another and the next thing you know she is saying for them to think pure thoughts and not to give into temptation. Meanwhile, he has other ideas and says that he has not jerked off since Easter. He then proceeds to force himself on her. Bad choice. This leaves him dickless. After this, her tooth filled vagina leads her to the doctor's office and he obviously loses his wandering fingers.
Throughout the rest of the movie, she encounters a few more dicks and proceeds to lop them off, one by one. "Teeth" makes me want to practice abstinence(like that will ever happen). I reccomend this horror-black comedy film to any girl that wants revenge on a worthless man who has taken advantage of her or for anyone that wonders what the sound of a dog chewing on a cock is like. hmm? Please find out and watch for the ultimate viewing pleasure. Merry Halloween freaks!

Mirror of Fear

FEAR. It eats away at us all. It destroys every bit of hope that is left in this blue heaven. It controls the lives of the weak that think homosexuals, people of color, the homeless, anybody that is different from what they are, should all be skinned alive and thrown in an unmarked grave while still breathing.
It's a crying shame people can think so closed minded. Their hatred, their fear is just a mirror reflecting their ugliness. How cruel and cold this world can be. I mean, we all judge, even if we say we don't, that's bullshit it just happens. It's natural, but that does not mean we shouldn't be open and accepting of EVERYONE regardless of their differences.
I say this because some of you might judge me or fear for my sanity because of the fucked up, twisted movies I watch. I like disturbing movies no one in their right mind should ever watch. I don't know what it is, but I'm fascinated by all of the things that are wrong with this angelic world. That is why for my next review I'm going to watch a movie called "Slaughtered Vomit Dolls." This movie is definitely not for everyone, but I will view it for those who only choose to watch family flicks and children's cartoons. Consider my curiosity a favor.
In case you were wondering it's a movie about "the gruesome tapestry of psychological manifestations of a 19 year old bulimic runaway stripper-turned prostitute named Angela Aberdeen; as she descends into a hellish pit of satanic nightmares and hallucinations." Wow! That's what's in store for me? This movie sounds like a rainbow floating in the sky on a clear, sunny day. Speaking of which, here's another one of my poems:

Graveyard Birthdays

Your birthdays
come and go, but you
are long
gone,
buried
beneath the sun
sleeping side by side
with your new found friends,
soulless
corpses.

Every summer
the family gathers
to pay a visit to you
and your friends.
We drink green beer,
make fun of you,
and use our tears
to clean your grave,
but the celebration ends.

A burning wind drifts by,
sweet suicidal thoughts
stir my restless soul,
but I can't do much,
I am a worthless coward,
a deformed pussy.
All I can do
is
drink the pain
down
and utter those dead, useless words
"Happy Birthday."

The Devil Makes Three Concert Review

This past weekend was sloppy to say the least. Throughout the day of The Devil Makes Three concert, I had the privilege of having an all day drinking fest with two lovely, somewhat crazy ladies. During these long hours, I heard a plethora of Pop songs and to the ladie's surprise I knew every corny lyric to such corny songs as Backstreet Boys "I Want it that Way" and P. Diddy's "Can't Nobody Hold Me Down." They thought because I am a metal head that I can only be a tough guy that gets way too drunk and ONLY listens to metal. This is far from the truth. I love music, all of it. No matter how hard or corny it is, it is the celebration of life and I cannot help, but celebrate. I don't try to be cool or follow a certain set of rules like punks, indie kids, and gangsta rappers do. Why are there rules anyways? I thought the whole point of it all, especially with punk, is that there are no rules. These "laws" make no sense to me, so instead I choose to be myself and enjoy and support bands and music that I know and love. Take it or leave it.
I am getting to know and already love the indie/punk/bluegrass band The Devil Makes Three. These whiskey guzzlers put on an incredible honky tonk performance. They had everyone at the Downtown Brew venue slappin' their knees and hootin' and hollerin' all throughout their historic show and even between breaks. All of the songs these okie punk rockers played were crowd pleasers, but it seemed that everyone knew every word to their booze soaked anthem "Old Number Seven." And if the crowd was not singing along to the Devils' other foot stompers like "Ten Feet Tall" and "Do Wrong Right," they were mesmerized by the bands vocal harmonies, blazing banjo picking, and upright bass slapping provided by Lucia Turino. This tattooed queen had me hypnotized, as well as the rest of the people with cocks there. Boy! She could play.
When they finished their set, the crowd would not let them leave. The drunk ramblers wanted more and more and they received encore after encore. The Devil Makes Three put on an impressive performance that was unforgettable and that is hard to believe considering how much whiskey was flowing through everyone's veins. I, honestly, miss those beautiful okies already. I just want to say thank you, thank you so much, you devils had me drinking in heaven.

The Black Dahlia Murder Concert Review

There was a metal show in San Luis Obispo on Thursday? Fuck yes and the disturbed mentally ill patients from the nearby Atascadero State Hospital came out to show their support for The Black Dahlia Murder's Deflorate tour.

Opening up at the Downtown Brew was Skeletonwitch. This up and coming metal band was a crowd pleaser. They are gaining a major cult following in the underground metal scene and it's no wonder considering the thrashing performance they slaughtered the crowd with. All of the band members were on top of their game. Chance, the lead singer, was howling at the top of his lungs and completely owned the tiny stage they performed on. The crowd, in response, beat the merciless fuck out of each other and ruined their necks and were more than pumped for the headlining act.

My ears have had the honor of bleeding to the punishing sounds of Black Dahlia and this time was no different. The crowd went ape shit for the Murder, even for their new songs, which Shannon Lucas, pounding the skins, destroyed on each and every level. He is an unbelievable drummer, perhaps one of the best in metal. On a different note, coming to the show I had some doubts about the new guitar player, but Ryan Knight quickly proved himself and I realized I was a fucking fool for doubting his talent.

The only thing that was missing from the show was their mascot. I love that shit throwing ape, but it didn't matter that was not there because the Murder ripped this yuppie/indie town a brand new gaping asshole. If you ever get a chance to check these bands out, just do it dammit! And say hello to Skeletonwitch when you see them out in the crowd. They are fucking down to earth metal freaks that will melt your black hearts. Worship these amazing metal bands and keep HEAVY METAL alive. Horns up!

Skeletonwitch Breathing The Fire

Who is pissing on me right now? I'm not sure whether it's El Nino or God or whoever the fuck, but there is no better time to listen to new music. I am currently listening to the new Alice in Chains album, which is already a classic in my ears and the new Flaming Lips album. There is a lyric in one of their new songs that says "those people are evil." Those evil motherfuckers are Skeletonwitch. Oh, and guess what they have a fucking amazing new metal album out called Breathing the Fire. These American Vikings play fucking metal that will make your grandmother shit blood and piss vomit. Their last album, Beyond the Permafrost, was below sub-zero temperatures. Their new album is hotter than the deepest depths of hell. It's hard to believe that they could have topped their last album, but they did it and they did it with the balls of a lion. They are leading the massive front in the modern thrash scene. With the help of producer, Jack Endino(High on Fire, Toxic Holocaust, and Soundgarden? Yes Soundgarden), they made a serial killer of an album. Picking a favorite song on this album would be like picking a favorite type of pussy. Now why would I do that? I like all types of pussy just as I like every single track on Breathing the Fire.
They blast out of the gates of hell on this album with the speed of a demon on crack, but there are also melodic elements on the album that calm this tornado of metal. Then, they go right back to destroying everything in their path.Chance, the lead singer, adds a new twist on his howling screams with a deeper growl, something not heard on their previous outings. The dual guitar assault of N8 feet under and Scunty D shred like maniacs and their solos are done with the axes of mass murderers. Loosh, the new bass player, jams like he was in the band before anyone was and when you hear the drums it sounds as if Mullet Chad was playing them in the bathroom next to you.
Skeletonwitch definitely stepped up their game on this album. Breathing the Fire is one of my top metal albums of the year hands down. So, do yourself and your grandmother a favor and pick this shit up. I guarantee you will not be let down by this black/thrash attack.

Ablutions Book Review

Patrick DeWitt’s novel Ablutions will either stop your blacked out ways or it will push you further down the bottomless bottle you can no longer live without. This novel is despicable, crude, ugly, truthful, and shocking. I fucking love it. DeWitt’s words will take you down a suicidal path stumble by stumble, page by page, towards your local, trashy, hole in the wall, Hollywood bar and give you a nice case of delirium tremens along the way.
You ever notice when you are in a bar by yourself trying to drown all of your fucked up sorrows in life, just how incredibly pathetic of a situation you have put yourself in. Then, you take a look around at the miserable people you are surrounded by and take notes on each and every regular that are there right beside you. That is the exact way this novel is written. The protagonist, an unnamed bartender, describes to the reader in a third person voice, all of the red eyed barflies that occupy his bar nightly. The characters he describes are destroying every bit of life in themselves and he, well, he puts them down for it and could not be more cruel to his misfortunate customers.
There are many memorable scenes in his notes that makes this novel addicting. One of my favorite scenes is at a party at the failed actor/coke addicted bar manager’s house, in which it was predicted by a regular that he would die in that very night. Chaos immediately ensues and hookers are brought to the fiesta as well as a mountain of coke. By the end of the night, no one dies and a little black kid is forced to have nightmares for the rest of his life. The book falls deeper and deeper into a bottomless pit of alcohol and the person drowning in it is the unnamed bartender. His life eventually becomes beyond ruined and he loses everything, but by the end he comes up with a fool proof plan that will get his life back on track.
Ablustions is a wonderful novel. These depraved adventures almost seem like the author experienced it all first hand. So, this is a perfect read for those who are watching their room spin round and round or for those who driving around on a full tank of whiskey. This novel has my blessing and soon it will have yours. Squares and Jehovah’s Witnesses beware.

Upcoming Reviews

There are many, many sinful books, concerts, and movies I will be reviewing during this upcoming dreadful week. Although I am busy as all hell with this unemployment thing. Who knew a graduate with a degree in creative writing would such have a hard time finding a job? I guess it's good that I use my time wisely and don't just sit around the house or local speakeasy drinking myself into a big black hole filled with Ol' Number Seven and cheap, imitation cola. Not a bad way to go out, but I like to do other activities despite my addiction to the destroyer of senses. Where am I going with this? Oh yes, reviews. I am currently finishing a book called Ablutions. So far this downward spiral of a tale makes my life seem pretty tame and uneventful. I guess that is why I am attending a couple of concerts this week at Downtown Brew in San Luis Obispo. Both of which I will be writing reviews for. One is an incredible show that features one of my favorite metal bands, The Black Dahlia Murder(Listen to them on my player) and opening for this blasphemous band is Skeletonwitch(also on my player). The other is no other than The Devil Makes Three(also on there). These three drunks sure do know how to rock a party and I cannot wait to sing along to their punk influenced country. Come out and join my alcoholic friends and me if you live anywhere near the Central Coast of California. In the meantime, here is another depressing poem for you to read to your kids before they venture off into their playground of nightmares:

The Uselessness

You feel
your hands
glide across
these same predictable
empty pages,
you see
your hands
scribbling
these same predictable
words
on empty pages,
as if
they meant something.

They mean nothing,
nothing at all
and
they make you feel nothing,
nothing at all,
but
you can never stop
no matter
how hard you try
and the uselessness
becomes
your life,
your way,
your
end.

Breaking The Hymen of The Room of Dreams

What the hell can you expect from me? I will be all over the map on this blog. Anything and anybody will be hunting down and killed by my words. Well, not everything. There will be many things that I will find enjoyable. It could be a recent concert I have just been to or a book I have just blazed through or a movie that made me jump out of my beer soaked car at the drive-in or maybe even something strange I came across while out on a drunken rampage. I will also be posting my creative writing. Speaking of which, here is a poem for all you rat lovers out there, lost in the worldwide labyrinth:

The Black Rat's Omen

"Have you ever talked to the dead?"
Asked the rodent
as it emerged from the house of
God.

Step by step,
creeping
he came to me
collapsing by my side.

He looked into my soul.

His eyes were pools of black
filled with emptiness,
his black hair covered his dwarf sized body
that rotted in the darkness,
his long tail faded
into the shadows.

My tongue departed.
Absent,
words became unkown,
my ears began to bleed.
Whispering, he went on with his nonsense,
"You know me. I have recently perished.
I was face down, my head flattened, weeping blood,
soaking the gravel below."

Through the mist,
instantly,
I recognized his voice.
It was the voice of my father,
his deceased cry, speaking to me
beyond the grave.

"Death is in search of you.
Say goodbye to all that you love."

Motionless,
my feet buried in ice,
the sign of the cross shinning above,
the rat turned away, limped back
into that dark house
of God,
as I surrounded myself in the pleasure of my own thoughts,
welcoming my tragedy with
two open arms.