Never Mind The Sellouts


What the fuck what the fuck what the fucking fuck?!!!! Are you fucking kidding me?!!! Can you believe this? Can I believe in anything? The band that brought punk to the masses, and spit in the face of conformity and consumerism has become the very thing it (and I) hates. The Sex Pistols put their fucking name on the Virgin Mastercard. Once symbols of freedom and rebellion these iconic images are now the face of coorporate control and blood sucking debt.


I’m so offended by this. These were the guys who taunted the queen of England, and literally stalked a boat she was riding on for some bullshit celebration. I believe the word “jubilee” was actually associated with it. Anyway, The Sex Pistols floated behind the queen  playing God Save Queen “her facist regime”; the regime that allows the queen and her family to live in luxury from the taxes taken from its people; some of whom can barely afford to feed themselves. Yeah the boat thing happened. Look it up.

So, they’ve gone from attacking an institution that is a burden on its people, to supporting and profiting from an institution that is not only a burden, but preys on the poor, under-educated and desperate.

And, here’s what really hits me hard about this. There are not too many things in this world that have a profound meaning, or inspire me. I grow pretty jaded as I get older, but one thing I always hold on to is the defiant anti establishment spirit of rock n’ roll. The intangible freedom those of us who know feel in the depths of our being that is so far removed from any marketing strategy or profit and loss sheet. That sacred place for me is now sullied. This is even worse than Green Day accepting a rock n’roll hall of fame induction. At least that was pointless and really didn’t hurt anyone. Credit cards ruin people’s lives for fuck sake!

I mean we always knew they (established financial controllers of everything on this Earth) were winning, but at least there was an illusion that the counter culture was putting up a fight. Who takes up the mantle now, Ed fucking Sheeren?!!

God damn it, I could go on and on, but rather I’ll just end with a few spurts of whatthefuckatudes, and try and move forward into the never ending soulless void. This really sucks.

Most unpunk rock thing ever

Fuck Mastercard, Virgin Airlines, Johnny Rotten, and Richard Branson.

Never Mind The Sellouts

Rock is dead


Hey Work, WTF!?

Hi blogland! This post is where I complain and drop an F bomb or two about my job. I know listening to others bitch and complain about work isn’t always fun, but it’s my poorly thought out blog, and you’ve been warned. If you’d rather read about cupcake recipes and Nobama, now’s your chance. Still there? Okay lucky reader, enjoy my misery. 

Now, I’m not normally a complainer, but today was insane. Started with another forklift driver and I trying to unload 60 pallets off a truck while having an incompetent and condescending senior manager create safety hazards and slow down the process while wasting his payroll by adding four more people to a process that was previously done in half the time by just two of us. Eh, his problem, not mine.

I also pulled a match sized splinter out of a co-workers back, and watched another manager purposely force a delivery driver to stand out in the rain getting drenched. 

At the end of the day, a guy who had been there two days ended his shift by cursing out a supervisor. Something about sweeping the “mother fuckin” floor.

Also, my direct boss’s last day is tomorrow, but his boss (the asshole senior manager) doesn’t know. Would love to be a fly on the wall when he finds out because fuck him, that’s why. Oh, and someone made a major complaint to HR about him, so tommorow will be interesting. 

Luckily my co-workers are all pretty cool, and some of us went out after, and had a What The Fuck sesh over some $2.50 beers. That was fun. 

Interesting day.

Marc Maron and The Ziplock Purse

I really like the Marc Maron WTF podcast, and last Christmas The Lady gave me Maron’s book, Attempting Normal. Per usual I read the first chapter as soon as I got it, liked it, then for no reason I let it sit there collecting dust for the next few months. 

Last week though I needed a distraction while having to wait in a sterile, official and intimidating setting, so I blew the dust off the paperback cover, tucked it under my arm, and proceeded to my place of obligation. When I arrived I followed the official “GO HERE FOR SUCH AND SUCH” signs, and found a seat. Feeling anxious about the ensuing proceedings, I opened my book, and tried to figure out where I left off since I never use a bookmark for some reason. 

I skimmed past the chapter entitled Two Prostitutes while being interrupted by a pleasant, but obviously crazy young lady who was confused about the start time. How did I know she was crazy? Well, she definitely had the prerequisite wide eyed hyper focused stare, and although she was dressed relatively clean and appropriately, her purse was a ziplock freezer bag through which I could see all of its contents (makeup, bills and Marlboro Menthols). For some reason the translucent purse equaled insanity to me. This probably says more about me than her. Anyway, ziplock girl went away, and I went back to my book. 

I found the chapter entitled Guitar which I vaguely remembered, and decided that must have been where I left off. Feeling annoyed and anxious I tried to ignore the old couple arguing about where to sit, and tried to read. Maron talked about discovering music for the first time in his dad’s station wagon, and how Buddy Holly was a spooky hero that spoke from the grave. I immediately felt a little less anxious, and smiled thinking about a long ride with my dad when he played his Beatles tape the whole way, and music grabbed ahold of me for the first time. 

My happiness was fleeting as a big heavy wooden door opened, and we were ushered into a larger room where my obligation would ultimately be fulfilled. Unfortunately before that could happen there would more waiting. So, again I found a seat, and was careful to be inconspicuous with my coffee, hence the official “NO FOOD OR DRINK” sign. I was so annoyed. Just in a bad mood.  I had been there an hour, and proceedings did not seem to be moving along. Conversation around me of which I did not participate was too loud to resume reading, and centered around complaints and misery related to our shared occupied space. Eventually the noise tapered off and I resumed reading. 

Maron continued to wax poetic about his early experiences with music, and when I got to the part about Chuck Berry my stupid annoying day was completely changed, and a smile came across my face that would stay there the rest of the day. He was talking about how a guy at school had showed him how to play the opening riff to Roll Over Beethoven… 

“I went home and tried it, it worked, and the entire world changed. I had it, the key to music. I was ecstatic. I was probably the only fifteen year old kid in the world in 1977 who was beside himself because he could play a Chuck Berry lick.” 

And I smiled, and closed my book. I understood 100% what he was talking about. I didn’t need to read another word. I was completely at ease, and full of positivity. A fellow traveler had shared an experience that was so relatable and similar to mine, and it gave me a great sense of validation, and connectivity. I was entirely grateful, and my perspective was completely changed for the better. I was even inspired to start blogging again, and did so that very night. 

That’s something good writing, or really any other form of art can do, and I’ll take it as a lesson for this blog going forward. To be able to take people somewhere emotionally where they otherwise would not be is what it’s all about. Thanks to Marc Maron. Attempting Normal is a great read so far.

Podcasts- They Don’t Suck!

I am very surprised to have become a fan of the relatively new art form known as Podcasting. As a long time listener of the legend, Howard Stern I was kind of a dick in my attitudes towards the pod people. Howard truly is my hero, and I thought there’s no way these “pretenders” could dare dabble in his trade. I actually plan to do a proper and lengthy post about Howard, and his affect on me , and how I see the world, but I need some time to wrap my head around that. Anyway, after a few years of dismissing the art form I’ve totally turned around on the subject of podcasters.

A few I regularly listen to include WTF with Marc Maron, The Diary of Jen Kirkman and The Nerdist with Chris Hardwick. All three are talented comedians with an appreciation for dark humor. Each has their own original take on life, and all are great at expressing themselves in an engaging way that keeps you listening.

WTF’s Maron is a 50 year old guy with the heart and spirit of a 20 year old. He regularly rants about the mundane, but never comes off as a curmudgeon like most people his age would. You empathize with him, and smile as he talks himself down acting as his own therapist. The show is interview based, and his guests run the gamut from mainstream Hollywood actors to obscure musicians to all sorts of comedians. No matter how big or small the guest, Marc gives each his undivided attention, interest and curiousity.

The Diary of Jen Kirkman has been a revelation for me. Kirkman literally sits alone in her bedroom talking into a microphone attached to an ipad. She’ll just take you through whatever events in her life that seem interesting to her, and have you hanging on every word. She doesn’t go for huge laughs. It’s not needed. The key to Jen Kirkman is her ability to be so honest and down to Earth at the same time. Jen truly doesn’t give a fuck, but is also a sweetheart. And, she’s so punk rock. If she saw this, she’d probably tell me to get a life, but with a smile.

The Nerdist is probably the most fun of the three. Chris Hardwick has the energy of Doctor Who #10 only with blond hair and much more Americaner. Yeah, I know I said Americaner. Let it go. Anyway, Hardwick will regularly riff with his partners, comedians Jonah Ray and Matt Mira, creating some real funny moments from real conversation. Laughs are usually centered around their nerdy obsessions that will include the day’s current superhero movie or some classic video game they played as kids. Their guests are always relaxed and fit in seamlessly.

So, for those of you who are sick of the boring shticky commercially over-loaded radio guys, or just want something different and with substance check out a podcast. There’s a zillion besides these, and they’re free! Don’t settle for the shit being shoveled at you. There’s still cool stuff out there in the world.