Monday, July 24, 2017

Detroit Rock Stars I'd Rather Have in Congress Besides Kid Rock


Yes, Kid Rock is your fat redneck uncle. He'd be great in the Senate, right?

Kid Rock is thinking of running for Senate. This is the world we live in now, a world where the writer of "Bawitdaba" can say he's considering a political career, and we all have to take it seriously, because Donald Trump is President, and there is no God. Here's a list of rock stars from Detroit that I'd prefer to Robert Richie.

 Don't eat the mic, Iggy.

1) Iggy Pop.

I have no idea what Mr. Pop's political affiliations are, but I have to imagine he's something of an idiot-anarchist. I can see it now--the Godfather of Punk enters the Senate chambers clad only in a pair of ripped jeans. He has a jar of peanut butter in one hand and some shards of broken glass in the other. He stares at Majority Leader Mitch McConnell and asks "What the fuck happened to that guy's chin?" Then he starts gyrating and smearing the peanut butter over his torso as he dances on broken glass.

Winners: Anarchists and gutter-punks who need a hip replacement and Uncle Sam's support.

Losers: Anyone expecting any sort of coherent position on any issue whatsoever.


Wacko-Jacko.

2) Jack White.

Professional musician and professional weirdo Jack White has always been something of a prickly character. He looks like Tim Burton and Jonny Depp's love child, and he has a fondness for taxidermy and beating up other rockers. Like Kid Rock, he is also something of a musical chameleon, switching from garage rock to alt-country to juke-joint blues. Unlike the Kid, he can actually play the guitar, although his voice sometimes sounds like a goddamn cat in heat.

Winners: Indie rockers, dead-animal enthusiasts.

Losers: Lovers of bananas and haters of guacamole.

Looks like he's about to rob a convenience store for a Mountain Dew and a carton of Menthols.
3) Eminem.
I mean, if you're going to pick a white-trash dude from Detroit to serve in the upper chamber of Congress, why not Eminem instead of Kid Rock? He's a bigger star, better rapper, and far greater innovator than the guy who wrote a whole fucking song over Sweet Home Alabama and Werewolves of London like that was okay or some shit. I'm sure Marshall Mathers has some perspective on the opioid crisis and low-class living, and despite his many beefs and crises over the years, he always seemed pretty intelligent to me, at least compared to Kid Rock.

Winners: Dr. Dre, trailer-parks, your teenage self.

Losers: Insane Clown Posse, your mom, maybe your children's children.

Looking good, ghost of Sonny Bono.

4) Ghost of Sonny Bono.

Flesh and blood Sonny Bono was a member of Congress, serving in the House of Representatives. Now that he's dead, why not shoot for the Senate? Sure, he might not get anything done, being dead and all, but if you're going to elect a Republican, why not a dead Republican? That's a compromise that I can live with.

Winners: The American People.

Losers: Kid Rock fans.

Thursday, July 13, 2017

Shit Paul Ryan Has Been Dreaming of Since Drinking out of Kegs in College

Never forget.

Paul Ryan has been dreaming of cutting Medicaid since he was "drinking out of kegs in college." Here's some other shit the third man in line for the Presidency has been dreaming about since he was enjoying a college education paid in part by a federal aid program (Oh the hypocrisy!).

Mr. Speaker has been dreaming of a threesome with Ayn Rand, Ronald Regan, and Barry Goldwater since that one time he got really drunk in college and almost fucked a trash can.

Paul Ryan has been dreaming of internment camps for poor people since he read Atlas Shrugged and concluded that the world is divided into makers, takers, and candlestick bakers.

One of the leaders of the Republican Party has been dreaming of a lithe black man clad only in a pink thong named Shamoose every third Wednesday of the month for three years and is considering visiting a witch doctor to figure out what the fuck is up.

Mr. Ryan sometimes dreams of a 200 lbs bench press but he knows he will never possess the strength of a fourteen year-old boy, let alone a strapping sixteen year-old.

Sometimes, late at night, Paul Ryan dreams that he cannot hear all the suffering he has wrought. On nights like these, only a drink concocted with copies of the Fountainhead and the Holy Bible blended together with animal fat and virgin's blood can ease his troubled mind. Afterwards, he sleeps like a baby, though he'll awake early in the morning to vomit out a cud of half-digested paper.


Paul Ryan dreams of a version of Harry Potter where Voldemort wins, and all of Hogwarts is put to work building a magical version of Auschwitz that is powered on centaur blood.

Paul Ryan dreams of sleeping an entire night without letting out any bed farts.

Paul Ryan dreams of sitting on Donald Trump's face until he suffocates. This dream is usually followed by another where the President takes a huge crap on the Speaker's chest and then makes him eat it.

Paul Ryan will occasionally have a dream where he is a Batman villain. He always starts the dream as either the Joker or Bane, but by the end, he's turned into Calendar Man or the Mad-Hatter, and Batman always beats the shit out of him, quite literally.

Paul Ryan dreams that someday, he will be a real boy, but then he remember that he has no soul and Pinocchio was just a fable.

Monday, July 3, 2017

Theme Park Mistress: Vintage Park Mistress

A mean, lean collection of vintage songs from Theme Park Mistress. Marinated in cheap guitar pyrotechnics and cases of Miller High Life. Shake but do not disturb. Play loud on a broken stereo with all the lights off. You're welcome.





Writer's Block: The Key to Happiness


The key to happiness

is to not be a philosopher.

Philosophers dwell in

Dead dark depths

of infinite despair

Where time is but a way

to measure motion

in the vast meaninglessness

of space.


If happiness is key

then think of nothing.

Do not see the strings

which pull you to and fro.

Live in ignorant bliss.

Amor fati.


If God is omniscient and omnipotent

then time is a joke

Had at our expense.

I hope he had a good laugh.

I fail to see the humor

In playing a puppet's part.

  A scuzzy garage-rocker with lyrics referencing some ho-down in the post-apocalyptic wastes. I think this shit's catchy! It's catch...