The Unsinkable Volkmar Friedmann

Today was an amazing day. I learned how to play “I’ll Tumble 4 Ya” on the ukulele. It sounds awesome when I crank it through my two 4x10 Marshall Cabinets and Mesa Boogie 800 watt head. It reminds me of all those cool covers that pop-punk bands do. You know, when they get kicked in the balls to sing the lyrics and then play the same chords but louder and with more distortion. Kind of like taking filet minion and throwing it through a food processor and calling it better than the original. You know, as much as people hate GNR, when they did cover Bob “I touch little kids” Dylan’s magnum opus, “Knockin’ On Heaven’s Door” they at least had the courtesy to add a couple solos, a telephone call, black ladies singing in the background, and a reggae part when done live. Oh yeah, and the distortion and really louder loudness. It’s my belief that if you are gonna do a cover, either do it exactly the same or do it better (unless of course you are learning it to sing to a girl so you can touch her vagina). I’m sick of the pussified versions of my favorite songs. Well, they may not be my favorite songs because I am a pretentious asshat, but I can recognize that they were good, solid songs. I mean, “Sweet Child of Mine” was a pretty pussyish song to begin with, though it is solid musically. But here comes Lance “Scarred Ballsack” Armstrong’s skeletor looking wife to make it more of a pussy-ass song. Hey, any song is good in my eyes if you get some ass from it, and Axl got hitched to Erin Everly because of it. So that’s cool, SCoM was a song written to fuck a girl. Nice. Now Rawhide McCheekbones comes along and makes the song about a little boy from an Adam Sandler vehicle.

Hold on, let’s stop for a second. A decent song is butchered and emasculated for an Adam Sandler vehicle. Well, I can think of another righteous song that was killed for an Adam Sandler crapathon. Yeah, “Don’t Stop Believing” by Bolivian Band, Journey (Pronounced Yourrrrrkneeee, yeah roll that “R” bitch). But this time, the butchering is even more self-promoting for Adam than SCoM. Alright, so you think Journey sucks. Well, that’s only because Steve Perry was assembled by Station 1 and Station 2, exclusively from Sears vacuum cleaners so he could teach the Wyld  Stallyns how to sing and thus defeat El Sobrante, California natives, Primus, at their High School’s Battle of the Bands and save the world. And besides, DSB is all about a hooker. Very cool in my book. Oh, I should specify it was a female hooker. That’s fucking ROCK at its finest. But no, Adam has to make the song about a crappy character, Mr. Deeds, that was ripped off a better movie that still sucked. And guess who plays Deeds, yup crapburger helper himself, Adam Sandler.

Here’s an interesting fact I stumbled upon a while ago. Did you know that Jews were not allowed to listen to Journey during Hitler’s reign? It’s true. Hitler knew the power of Journey’s tight spandexed lyrics. Because of the Stations’ close attention to detail, Steve Perry could rock harder than an autistic kid surrounded by mirrors. But like Tinkerbelle, Steve Perry and Journey can only live if the people around them believe in them. Man, if Hitler had let Journey alone, Berlin would have been stomping their feet and singing to a karaoke version of “Separate Ways” instead of listening to Adolf go on and on about whatever. And Steve Perry would have swooped down on the back of the Millennium Falcon, holding his feathers tight the whole way. Hitler would have gotten a nice talking to and sent home to get it from his father. But no, Steve Perry was powerless for Hitler had banned all of Journey. The lack of radical tunes led Germany to believe there was no hope and Steve Perry was a lie perpetrated by the Jews. Isolated in his Fortress of Rockitude, Steve Perry cried the tears of a thousand ancestors, realizing he was helpless.

But let’s not give Hitler too much credit for his foresight. He forgot about 2 Live Crew and in 1945, they did indeed drop the bomb. Brother Marquis remarked of Hitler’s faux pas, “Some say they don't know of us but that is a lie/Suckas try to play they games of Dis-and-Die.” With the bomb dropped, 2 Live Crew forced the SS Troops to step off the pedestal and give them the mic. The stage was set for Steve Perry. Fresh Kid Ice informed Germany that he could rock the people like they would like. The people were moved by masses and Steve Perry left his fortress to rock out Berlin and with the Germans’ help he was able to topple the evil Third Reich.

Unfortunately for Hitler, one of the victims of 2 Live Crew’s bomb dropping was Volkmar, Hitler’s illegitimate pet ferret. You see, his death was one of the most important events in German war history, right up there with Von Kluck’s turn. Volkmar was constantly seen in Hitler’s company but was not acknowledged by Hitler for fear that Rick Astley would use his power of telepathy and crush Volkmar’s peanut-sized brain. Why would this be a devastating blow to Hitler? Because Volkmar powered all of the Reichstag through his running wheel. Without lights running, no work could be accomplished and the Third Reich would fall behind drastically in the arms race. Volkmar was also a savage mind. It was his idea for Hitler to ban 2 Live Crew from Germany, but Hitler thought he was merely tripping on acid and did not heed the advice of the ferret. As well, Hitler had originally planned on using the concentration camps as holiday resorts and allow every German citizen three weeks use of the resorts. Volkmar was able to send messages through other channels and convince Hitler otherwise. Hitler was made to believe that the Jews had been infected with a deadly and incurable disease by NASCAR pit crew chief, Fatback McSwain. The disease, Volkmar convinced Hitler’saides to tell him, would cause the Jews’ bodies to literally eat themselves from the inside out. The disease was transferable to others and Hitler decided to use the concentration camps as quarantine areas. All his medical advisors explained that anyone without the disease could sustain themselves on bread and water alone. The whole time, Hitler believed that the Jews in the camps were withering out and dying from the disease rather than malnutrition and torture. And burning the corpses was merely a logical thing to do for preventing further spread of the disease.

Or maybe Hitler was a crazy ass megalomaniac and history’s biggest douche bag. It’s hard to tell. All I know is that we better be thankful we could rely on Steve Perry to come through in the clutch. Fucking REO Speedwagon would have been too busy wanking themselves into oblivion, the bastards. Hey at least we got Britny Fox’s amazing song, “Long Way to Love” because of the holocaust.

New great music

I've been listening non-stop to The Mic Stand Fiasco. These guys are amazing. I'd put them up there with 21 Shots Till Morning. It wasn't until listening to TMSF that I realized how tragic it can be when you get your first pubes. I almost cried when lead singer, Timmy Wenton, started singing "Oh mom and dad/ how can you be glad/ you call me man/ time falls like sand." That's from track 2 on their latest album, "Balls Quiet on the Western Frontal." The song, for those of you too imcompetent to know about TMSF, is called "Growing Out and Sprouting Up." This is like the Alt/Pop-Punk/Rock/Emo version of that terrorist dude's song from 40's about rocking the cradle with a silver spoon and jumping jack flash on the dark side of the moon. You know, that whiny ass song about the dad and his gay son. Speaking of gay, wasn't the father in the song a pedophile or something, maybe that was Bob Dylan. If so, it's a good thing he's dead. Fucking people with foot fetishes suck.

But getting back to what's important, growing your first set of pubes. It's probably the worst time in any white suburban kid's life. Think about it. White dudes are awkward as it is, especially suburban ones. And so their whole lives they've been trying to figure out ways to not seem so awkward. Some take ballet, others, beat those kids up. But after 12 years or so, the finally figure out how to not be awkward. Then God decides to fuck with you. Pow, you've got pubes. Or La dee freaking dah, everyone else has pubes but you. I think at that time, you can hook up with slutty catholic school girls if they know you have pubes. Dude could wear the unwashed underwear of an alcoholic clown outside of his parachute pants and shit touch a girl's flat chest if he has pubes. The number one reason girls at that age don't like boys of their age... you said, "Darryl Strawberry." Survey says, "You boys are so immature." Wow, you were actually pretty close. Darryl Strawberry is quite immature, but in reality is not a boy, but a cartoon character turned into a toy craze for little girls because of the gut wrenching scent of plastic and artificial fruits the little doll dishes out on unknowing parents. Getting back to the heart of the matter, if a boy has pubes, that must mean he is, like the TMSF song says, "...a man..." Plus, since most girls hit puberty before boys, they usually have pubes too and thus both parties have something in common and an icebreaker is found: Guy: "Hey, I have pubes." Girl: "No way! So do I!" Guy: "Can I touch your boobs?" Girl: "If you want, but I've got tits like a Larry the Cableguy soliloquy, totally flat." Guy: "Aww sweet, Larry the Cableguy rocks, your boobs must be huge." Ok, so you've got your pubes before anyone else, your hooking up more than a velcro pad and your dog's shedded hair. Everything is great... for now. Next thing you know, everyone has pubes, so it's no big deal. You are so used to your old approach of picking up girls that you can't change. Hence, there are those awkward moments the rest of your life when you are talking to a girl and things are going well and you just blurt out, "Can we hook up now?" Smooth, like silk. Seriously, go to a white boy frat party and you'll see and hear it first hand. Thankfully, half the girls are drugged so you don't even have to ask.

But say you didn't get your pubes. Well, sorry Billy, your gonna have to do your own jerking off for a while. No helping hands for you. But wait a minute, don't give up. Little Billy learns to try other ways to hook up with girls. Nice, now you are getting somewhere. Unfortunately, it doesn't matter. If you don't have pubes no one will hook up with you except a couple of members from NAMBLA. So once you get your pubes, you forget all that smooth shit you used to pull and just go with the over the top I've got pubes bs. Like I said though, by this time everyone has pubes so you are, sadly, not screwed.

Ah but now shit really gets thrown through a loop. When you get to your late teens, the older generation convinces you that pubes suck, shave them, wax them, nuke them, whatever it takes, NO PUBES OR ELSE NO SEX!!!!!! But here's the catch. It only really applies to women. Why? Because they realize that little hole fucking smells horrible with all that hair trapping her cod-like aroma. And do you know why guys are telling girls to get rid of their hair (I'm sure lezbos do it too, cept maybe them butch mofos)? Because it's a revenge tactic. All those years wasted, growing out pubes to get with girls when we really only needed to be fucking smooth like black dudes, or exotic like latinos or continental Europeans. I don't know about whether or not Asian dudes get play, I don't talk to them for fear of SARS. I even wear a mask when I order Chinese, I mean Asian food, I mean cuisine over then telephone. But yeah, so we ge revenge. The tortue those biotches put us through, well, they get double cause of the stubble. Booyah.

As you see, white suburban kids are usually stupid and always awkward and are a parasite of society. Kinda like the only blindfolded guy in a circle jerk when he takes off the blindfold in front of the fat girl sorority. If it weren't for great music, like TMSF, these kids would have to resort to creating something cool and unique. And we wouldn't want them doing that, now would we?