Shuriken of Truth

Creepy Woods Pic

Merry Holiday and Crap

As I sit in my cube munching on dry Blueberry Clusters Kashi cereal, I pause and reflect over the holiday. I reflect thusly:

The Demoness, Deamonette and I went back to my teen age stomping grounds, Omaha, NE for a family reunion of sorts. My mom had everyone (+ new family additions where applicable) under the same roof for the first time in at least 15 years. It was nice to have time to hang out with everyone (it’s nice to have it over with too, I tell you what, boy).

We got yo hang out with The Morgetron clan as well, which was a definite highlight of the vacation. I should have taken Hubbatron’s advice and foregone the vile Chelada (Deathchelada to the ninja community). Unfortunately, my wife loved it and she is on a mission to find it here in B-more. Please, god-alah-buddha-yahweh, don’t let it be distributed here, please.

~Fin

A Few Kick Ass Songs I Can’t Listen To Around My Kid

One of the crappy things about being as brutally metalicious as I historically have been is not being able to rock some of my more brutal tunes around Kid. Sure, a few F*Bombs here or there or some political ranting and raving about “Fuck the Government” and stuff is all good every once in a while, but there are some limits. Now, When you look at the list, you’ll notice some of the more extreme death metal missing. It’s kind of obvious. If Kid can’t understand the lyrics, she has no clue that “Hammer Smashed Face” by Cannibal Corpse is about smashing someones head in with a hammer. It’s kind of a no-brainer. The songs on this list are songs I love that are just too obviously questionable or a little above the psyche of a 13 year old.

Unida- Wet Pussycat: a whole minute of John Garcia screaming “What the fuck” after a song about a dirty whore is a little over the top.

Tool – Ænema: It’s a great song with a great message, but the whole “fuck everyone” tirade (which, when I’m listening to the song, I totally mosh in my chair at that part) makes it a no no.

Venom- Black Christmas: I’ll just lump all the old-school Black Metal in here. They were brutal, but they had singers you could understand. Mix that with the absolutely over the top Satanic message, and you’ve got some not too kid friendly tunes.

Akon and Snoop Dogg- I wanna Fuck You: Yeah, even hard rockers like me like to get down and obvious with our women. It’s music for times like the great Katt Williams said “When you can lean back and look at your own dick”, NOT when you’re in the car with your kid.

Turbonegro- I Got Erection: Turbonegro makes bad music. Not crappy music, but completely unwholesome music. It’s a given that every song is about tender buttsex, but in some songs the imagery is more veiled in metaphor than others. “I Got Erection” is one of the obvious ones.

Dirty Sanchez- I Dig It: This is a banging club song, with a nice, infectious 80’s sound. The only problem is, about half way through, they start talking about how great it is to get their scrotes gobbled and fingers in their butt holes. Nah.

Nekromantix- Who Killed the Cheerleader: It’s no more overtly violent than most songs I listen too, but the chorus is a little too much for a 13 year old, methinks:

“Who killed the cheerleader?
you did… you did. Oh no.. it wasn’t me at all
who raped the prom queen? he did he did
Yeah right and she was having a ball… ”

Supersuckers- How to Maximize Your Kill Count: A joke blueprint to committing mass murder. It’s funny if you don’t think about the large amount of people that have really been doing it lately. It’s got some bad ass trademark Supersuckers licks in it too.

Still on the fence: Anything by Acid Bath. These guys are pretty fucked up. They play some crazy 90’s stoner rock that seems unassuming and harmless, but they break out in some creepy stuff. Prime example “Bleed Me an Ocean”. It’s insightfully fucked up…and rather well articulated…it kinda scares me…in a good way…

~Fin

Obligitory Holiday Blog Post

Don’t despair,
just because it’s Christmas.
Children, they’re
all so gay at Christmas.
All the children on the street
hope they get something good to eat.
But for me it’s not so great.
Fuck Christmas!

~Fear

Ah, the holidays. A time of great expectation, greed and disappointment.  A time to not be with loved ones, but people we are obliged to.  A time not of joy, but sacrifice for others fragile facade of joy.  A time not of love, but duty.  Usually, the holidays are a black cloud over my year.

This year, I’m actually excited about X-mass (I ain’t Christian, so I celebrate the Code Red guzzling, snow boarding,  bong hitting guy in a red hat).  I get to spend a week with family and friends that I haven’t seen in years.  Wife, Kid and I are heading to Omaha for a few days.  It’ll be nice to kick it, drink beers, have some good food and bull shit with no responsibility to anyone but my bed.  Wife will get a respite from all the work and family drama that’s been weighing down on her lately.  Most importantly, my family will get to hang out with Kid, my pride and joy.

I hope everyone out there gets to have a great holiday like I’m planning on having this year.

~Fin

Piss on My Blog

Go ahead.  I know how you feel about it. Just piss all over it. Have a blast, jerk.

Shooting Children for Fun and Profit, a poem

Kid’s 13th birthday party

Lasertag in Dundalk

Yellow team, 5 girls

Green, 5 boys

Epileptic seizures, black light maze

Headshot

Male domination through Lasertag

~Fin

I will storm the earth with my mighty metal axe!

So, fuck yeah.

It’s going to be a guitar shredding X-mass at the old Aaronichi home this year.  Wife and I are getting Kid a Squire starter set.  I’m asking Santa for a set up as well, but I’m still on the fence between this bad ass rig and this tool of metal destruction.  I know, I have no clue how to play guitar, but with those axes I could probably shit in a bucket on the strings and it’ll sound like Thor on Rock Sauce.  A good friend of mine has agreed to teach me and Kid how to throw down together at the same time and shit.  It’ll be rad.  I don’t care what she WANTs to play, we’re going to be the first father daughter doom metal band ever.  We just need to get Wife to learn to play drums, and it’ll be like the Brady Bunch tour, but with drop D tuning and the devil.  Oh, yes, we will keep the spandex jumpsuits with fringe work on the arms.

I Imagine It’s Like What Checkov Felt in Wrath of Kahn When He Got the Intergalactic Earwig Put in His Ear

I’ve been kinda bored today, surfing the brown wave that is the internet. I found some pretty bad ass Doomish Metalish bands, so I’ll share em with you in case you feel like being shared with because I said so. Besides, the music you listen to most likely sucks anyway.

Yob: Stoner/Doom Metal from Oregon up until 2006. If you don’t like them, I refuse to hang out with you.

November’s Doom: Straight up melodic Black Metal. Brutal.

Fistula: I thought the name was like “Fisting + Dracula”, but it means some kind of a rupture in the taint or eye or eardrum. That’s pretty metal. But a band of ravenous fisting Draculas is even more metal. Like the last entry, they are brutal as well.

Dot[.]: Now defunct metal joint from Japan. They have a ton of albums with naked chicks and such. Always a bonus.

End of Level Boss: Who cares if they kick ass. Their name is way rad. Well, they do kick much old school Doom ass, so good for them.

Daylight Dies: When the Black Metal masses get home from a hard day burning down Christian churches in the name of Norse gods, this is what they listen to to unwind.

Reverend Bizarre: These guys are aptly named. It’s like if Dr. Frankfurter made an Alien Sex Fiends album mixed by Lemmy back when he was in Hawkwind or something.

6 bands?

6 is a good number.

6 is the magic number.

Sensible Shoes, a poem

I bought a pair of Rockports on Saturday

My first pair of sensible shoes

Stylish shoes too worn

Still cool, 10 years on

Hurt my feet like hell

Trash

Classic Oxford cut

Great insole support

Non skid sole

They’ll match my new Ralph Lauren Chaps slacks

Another Great Example of Why Horror Movies Suck Today

“The film which you are about to see is an account of the tragedy which befell a group of five youths, in particular Sally Hardesty and her invalid brother, Franklin. It is all the more tragic in that they were young. But, had they lived very, very long lives, they could not have expected nor would they have wished to see as much of the mad and macabre as they were to see that day. For them an idyllic summer afternoon drive became a nightmare. The events of that day were to lead to the discovery of one of the most bizarre crimes in the annals of American history, The Texas Chain Saw Massacre.”

Hearing that opening narrative still gives me the creeps. The reasons for the lasting fear induced by TCM writer, Tobe Hooper, are about as cliche as you get: the great tension caused by the claustrophobic camera work, the grainy documentary feel of the film stock, feeling like your right there because of the hand held cam, virtually no blood, and only a couple of clear views of Leatherface. Cliche they might be, but they still ring true as they did the first time. The movie is a genius triumph of creativity over budget. Hooper continued to creep the hell out of me with a few more in the series, still relying on more of a mind screw than red splatter to shock and awe.

In comes Texas Chainsaw Massacre: The Beginning. I was pretty excited about this, not really sure if it was going to be the story of Leatherface’s hell-ride to psychosis or if it was the original Massacre they alluded to in previous movies. Either way I was hopeful when the Wife popped it in the old XBox 360. The opening scene, Leatherface birthed on a slaughterhouse floor and found in a dumpster, made me almost piss my pants laughing. It was the best origin story since Freddy’s in Dream Warriors. From there, we got a credits montage of the standard psycho animal killing/making masks out of dogs/serial killer typing filler. At the end of it, we get to see Leatherface’s first kill: the manager of the condemned slaughterhouse in which he was born. That was is for the “What Makes a Chainsaw Wielding Cannibal Psycho Tick” portion of The Beginning. They give a little more exposition on the current state of the Hewett family introduce Sheriff Hoytt (R. Lee Ermey of “Private Pyle I’m gonna give you three seconds; exactly three-fucking-seconds to wipe that stupid looking grin off your face or I will gouge out your eyeballs and skull-fuck you!” fame) . There’s the story of how he got to be sheriff. Here’s a hint: he killed the real Sheriff Hoytt and ate him.
Move along and they introduce the gore fodder. Two teen couples that are driving across Texas to get the boys to some Marine boot camp and off to ‘Nam. Bikers terrorize the kids, a cow gets hit by an old school Bronco and the kids get nabbed by the Hewetts one way or another and they end up at “The House”. Once they got into the house, what unfolds is an example of what has become endemic with horror these days: no balls or brains.

This movie does not pretend to enter into “mind screwing” territory like the original, but instead decides to go for the gore gross out with smatterings of R. Lee Ermey playing Gny. Sgt. Hartman doing his impression of Bill Moseley. Sound like a great formula? Yeah, I thought so too, but the execution was just weak. There’s a body count of about 9 and each death is shown for, the most part, vividly. But we’ve seen it before. There’s a scene where Leatherface has a guy on a slaughtering/butcher table at his mercy. Yeah yeah, they show him getting his first mask, but so what? What after that? He saws the guy in the gut. Woo Hoo. Some other guy gets sawed in half. Ok. Another guy gets hit in the head with a hammer. Yawn? They got some mileage out of the blood hose, but blood spray just isn’t shocking. If their aim is to terrify you with the horrific acts the family is capable of, they could have brung it a little more. Saw a guy in the gut? Have some intestines flop out. Better yet, have the retarded cannibal play with em a little. Cut a guy in half with a chainsaw? Have the mom dance with the upper part later on with to some guts flailing around. Sledge hammer a guy in the grape? I want to see fragments of bone in brains. At the least, they could have had Monty (the dumb old hick type) hump a corpse or something. Come on. Shock me a little. At least go as far as other mainstream movies have.

The saving grace of this movie SHOULD HAVE BEEN R. Lee Ermey going balls out. He did go balls out with the lines he was given, but the lines he was given were not balls out. He had a handful of snickerable one liners (“it’s for balance” was nice) but he really didn’t get to go off. Like I mentioned earlier, It’s like Sheldon Turner was trying to write for Gny. Sgt. Hartman channeling Choptop, but what you get is a old, angry hick on anti-anxiety meds. Some advice for would be horror writers: Bill Moseley is lightning in a bottle. If you want him, at least be as smart as Rob Zombie and hire him.

They didn’t even throw out the gratuitous nudity bone. When they introduce the massacrees, Blond Titties is about to give Blond Beefcake a little “Going Off To ‘Nam” nookie. Blond Titties didn’t even get em out of her (as Wife pointed out) anachronistic bra. Guys, she’ll bring out the sweater bunnies, just ask.

Texas Chainsaw Massacre: The Beginning was an all around disappointment. It could have been a welcome addition to the Hewett Family album, but it’s balls just refused to drop. Don’t waste money or Q space on this puss out. Re-watch House of 1000 Corpses, the original TCM, TCM2 or something.

Texas Chainsaw Massacre: The Beginning gets one flaccid, floppy cock.

~Fin