Progressing, everyone thought Metallica softening up twelve years ago was agonizing, but I don't think these complainers have heard any Red Hot Chili Peppers shit lately. These ditties could easily be advertisements for comas. If not that, then guys in college can pick up their latest CD if they're having doubts about their sexuality. If you listen and don't like it, you might get some pussy in the next six months. If you listen to Red Hot Chili Peppers and like what you hear, you're probably going to be pissing off your parents on Thanksgiving because of the guest you bring. Basically, 15 years ago we just called you 'fags' for liking the Chili Peppers. If you like them now, well . . . I guess we just stereotype you as 'emo' without a nutsack, which pretty much makes you a bitch who doesn't know how to open a shampoo bottle and/or correctly apply gel in your hair. Whatever. Follow the trends, you fucking plastic, hippie, drones.
Anyway, while we're on bands that suck Mandingo cock, what's with the big names from broken bands thinking they can make it on their own? Soundgarden splits, Chris Cornell realizes he's not, in fact, Luciano Pavarotti then fixes Rage, for the better, I might add. Now all we need to do is get Stuck Mojo a new singer.
Christianity apparently showers a few too many drops as well as beers, then Scott Stapp decides he's the reason so many high school girls were getting their 'rock on,' only to find out his name ain't appearing on a pair of jeans any time soon. Does anyone give a shit this drunken hypocrite went solo after realizing the other members of Creed couldn't stand his ass? I swear, Chris Daughtry must have a framed picture of Scott Stapp on his nightstand. It's probably signed . . . with fingerprints all over because Daughtry kisses his fingers then taps the glass so fucking often.
Tommy Lee, despite his cock, tattoos and hepatitis, decides he's going solo after Methods of Mayhem doesn't put out another CD---that's fucked. I totally jammed that whole disc, fag. And oh yea, I remember Vince Neil's solo project, and Slash's Snakepit, which both make me want to remember VD to alleviate the pain. Then Stone Velvet Temple Revolver Pilots were like a salve I'd put on my penis after not wearing a condom one Saturday night. Time will only tell if Army of Anyone can pull off something memorable, but my prognosis is nothing of the sort.
Course, I'm only in my early thirties, so to all the people collecting Social Security in ten years, I know you're all hip on Phil Collins still being able to hit a drum despite being deaf, and Paul McCartney, whom I totally refuse to call 'sir" because he doesn't appear to be much more than a greedy foreigner who many of us wish would have been drafted thirty-five years ago, if for nothing else then for making us look at that take-out menu of a wife. I rest comfortably knowing that Paul McCartney will die before I do, and that's all I have to say about that pompous, enema of a human. Bono and Sting are pompous ass bags for children as well, but Elton John is an enlarged adult diaper. I read an article on how this prick yelled at his manager because the wind was blowing too hard on the window in the hotel he was staying at, because as we all know, when we have servants, they're supposed to prevent earthly events on top of wiping our bums. Asshole.
Face it. The only 'attraction' of a band who could go solo and make it is Marilyn Manson, and that's only because every group member they've ever had have named their first name after a model and the last after a serial killer, coincidently Mr. White Face already has the household name of. Hey, I'm not even shitting on Manson. I think they jam. Even if you don't know what I'm talking about, by default you have to like Marilyn Manson because as we all know, everyone loves
cake,
and if you've read my stuff this far, I'm pretty sure you like
sodomy. Whatever. Hell, Jonathan Davis couldn't even go solo. It's like Ace Frehley and David Lee Roth. No one gave a shit back then and no one will give a shit in the future. Now, Justin Timberlake is a different story simply because of the demographic he appeals to, but we're talking about good music here: ya know, rock. I mean real rock; not just the spoonfed shit you get on your Promo Onlys. Think outside the box and be example-setters; stand-up Americans who believe in the greater good of humanity . . . like these blood-suckers -->
Jesus Christ, having multi-million albums sold world-wide would give anyone an ego, but I bet your mother's left labia you won't see a song on the top twenty by James Hetfield in the next ten years. Hell no, because it's already instilled in our brains what he is: a member of a team . . . and a crybaby. And Lars . . . Holy fucking pastor of muppets. I can't believe this prick had the balls to cry about us downloading a few mp3s of a group in which he plays the fucking percussion, then on "Some Kind Of Monster" documentary he sells art work for millions. Fucking art!!! Ya know, the shit one would hang on the wall that most of us buy from Walmart for $20. And this prick is crying about bootlegs and rips. Man, fuck you. Seriously, fuck you with a Tyrannosaurus cock.
Makes me want to reenact that scene when Lars was all pissed off at Hetfield acting like such a French-Canadian. Lars went up to James and kept saying , "Fuck . . .Fuck . . . FUCK!" That's kinda what I wanna shout into Lars' pudgy fucking face then slap his kid in the mouth early on just to make sure he doesn't grow up to be a cunt like his dad: crying because all of my Metallica songs are in mp3 format, but I just can't seem to find any of the original CDs lying around. Fucking cun . . . wait . . here --->
Fucking rockstar, cocksuckers.
Face it, Rap is becoming too redundant and mainstream rock has pretty much died.
Aside from Mushroomhead, Insane Clown Posse is the greatest music that's ever entered my ears. Those two mother fuckers from Detroit are awesome. I'm completely down with the clown forever. Seriously, for the whole white boy rappers, Eminem grew tiresome, Paul Wall cuts a jam here and then, but ICP has something on their side besides Mike E. Clark because they can't go wrong even in '07. I respect them even more after finding out they throw lunch meat at groupies just to see if it will stick.
Awesome!
But in the end, the Head dominates all you, and if you don't know who Mushroomhead is then you probably know how long Kurt Loder's career has lasted.
