Archives: 6-29-02 to 5-28-02
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The last week has been one of the worst of my goddamned life. With all the problems to deal with my mental health problems were evident on a half dozen occasions easily. Unlike a lot of typical good ol' drunks out there my problems aren't CAUSED by alcohol. Each time this week I flipped out from stress I was sober as can be. Each time I probably would've bounced back faster if I had time to sit in a dark cool bar with a bourbon and water or two..or three or seven.
I've always been a bit "highstrung" at times throughout my life; I've got my share and then some of weird phobias and a sometimes hair trigger temper. You know what though?? Age and experience has taught me that most of the people I know who act like Joe Cool most of the time have similar problems if not even worse. People who play in bands almost always fancy themselves really cool. Without naming names or betraying confidences I've got to point out that a damn lot of well known people from bands you'd "never suspect" are fucking WACKO just like so many wrestlers who are able to maintain an outwards image of being tough and in control.
Look closely at guys in bands with "tough guy" images..who never seem to smile or break charachter; those guys often are fucking paranoid schizo's.
I SPEAK THE TRUTH. I bet a half dozen dudes I know from bands will read this and wonder (remember..they're usually vain) if I'm referring to THEM. Let's get back to MY problems.
I've pinpointed a while back what I think is the root problem of my recent attacks of insanity. The last office job I had (I wrote about it in JOBJUMPER..and in the last HITLIST too) almost finished me off. I'm afraid as much as it's helped writing about it and knowing that my boss was demoted permanently thanks to me was great and all..but since then I haven't been able to re-build my mental resilience when it comes to dealing with adversity.
I used to have the balls to sell stuff door to door. I used to ENJOY job searches (I covered that too in Jobjumper). I used to answer telephones (I can't anymore for the most part). I used to bounce back from bad stuff that happens in my life. I mean the BIG stuff like pen's that run out of ink unexpectedly..Ebay mysteriously crashing for a day..and car troubles.
I changed 3 flat tires on one 300 mile round trip once..and took it all in stride.
If I had 3 flat tires in a MONTH now I'd be hard pressed to get out of bed for a day or so.
If you log onto this diary some day and read an announcement that I've departed the planet prematurely it'll be because I've totally and finally lost my ability to bounce back from petty situations and adversity back at that job with COMMONWEALTH Land title Insurance.
I'm against lawsuits that claim damages because somebodies "sensitivities" were upset. If I can't summon up the backbone to get my head straight after leaving a brutal workplace 5 years ago I DESERVE to die.
As I mentioned once before in these pages..I recently learned my birth Mother was institutionalized not all that long ago. When I meet my other blood relations in July I'll learn more about her problems. For now I've got to take into account that part of my problem is probably hereditary. I've got to figure out how to RISE ABOVE whatever genetic difficulties I have to deal with.
I'm the first to admit that A LOT of people have MUCH bigger problems to deal with. Try walking a mile in the moccasins of a certain reader of this diary whom I can't name of course whose child has been diagnosed with a heavy, heavy medical situation. This fellow and his Wife have had their lives tossed in a damned hell-blender. Now THAT is something to get upset over. I can't even find proper words to express my sympathy to him. But I know that I'm a damned sissy with my problems in comparison to REAL trouble. I've seen enough REAL trouble..such as my old man dying a slow torturous death..to know what it's all about.
I've read a few books that have given me strength over the years. "WILL" by G. Gordon Liddy. "Atlas Shrugged" by Ayn Rand. "HAM ON RYE" and several others by Charles Bukowski.
I'm afraid though if it seems I'm getting soft or vulnerable in writing honestly like this that I've got to point out that the only TRUE antidote for a serious case of insanity is a counter-strike of HATRED. My enemies make me stronger. THANKS. If it weren't for them I'd have shriveled up long ago. But, there they are ready to pull me out of one depression after another. I REFUSE to give up in the face of my enemies. I REFUSE to allow them to laugh and celebrate after my death if I can help it at all.
Some people might think the songs with hateful themes from the Rancid Vat catalogue are just amusing little ditties meant to follow some formula inspired by fellow geniuses like G.G.
I hated humanity in general LONG LONG before I left grade school. On our first record's liner notes you can see an inscription "INSPIRED BY ENEMIES". It's not a formula or a schtick for me. I'm thankful we've collaberated with two great lyricists over the last 21 years Wilson and Cosmo who've helped get the message of H.A.T.E. towards our mostly worthless species across.
To quote from "Hatred is sacred" one of my favorite Vat tunes ever:
"to hatred we shall build a shrine..at which to worship all of the time
attend church religiously..it is a point in which we all can agree
gouging out someones eyes..is sure to bring contented sighs
a well placed kick at a bystander..turns someones groin into hamburger
Hated is so sacred..it's something you can touch
Hatred's really sacred..it always means so much
Hatred is a tonic that makes you feel much better..
and it is the GLUE that holds the universe together.."
To shift gears, we played our 1st Texas line-up Rancid Vat show last night down in San Antonio. I know there's a small handful of dickheads with ulterior motives (poorly concealed) out there who were wishing and hoping it would be a shitty show. We played with 3 great bands who put us over all night before our set: THE BAGHDAD BOMBERS, SHIT and the BULEMICS.
Elvis Rotten made his musical live debut and did damned well. He knew all the words effortlessly. His physical stage moves were totally his and quite suitable. If he tried to act like Wilson or Cosmo he would've made a monkee out of himself...but he KNEW that and didn't make that mistake. I chalk it all up to the several years of pizza/beer drunken Saturday morning breakfasts we had with Pig Champion from the time he was 3 years old. I chalk it up to Brotha' Jeff Clayton annointing him with his tour hat from the 80's. I chalk it up to hanging out with pal's like Jim Goad who are BEYOND rock and roll. I chalk it up to him having to give up his bed every time the Lazy Cowgirls or Jello Biafra or Antiseen or Nashville Pussy or Turbonegro (wait..they visited but didn't sleep over) spent the night. I chalk it up to having Cosmo take us into the lockeroom at a wrestling show in Queens when he was at a key age. I chalk it up to the CRAMPS and TWISTED Mutha'fuckin' SISTER and ACDC and the RAMONES and other such role models for him to follw. I chalk it up to him watching the Limecell boys and their pals at C.O.S. supershow 1997 load beer 12 packs up into their 2nd floor room using a bucket brigade method Elvis still hasn't forgotten. A lot of friends of ours will maybe always picture him as a cute kid..but he's grown out of the kid stage now. He's a month or two away from 18..and he stands at even height with Craig from the Bulemics.
I don't want to gush too long here..his real musical goals are with his own band who we're going to try to record next Tuesday (the CATS FROM MARS).
I guess we have another candidate for permanent singer to get together with anyway.
I can guarandamntee you we'll have some FUCKED UP SHITTY shows down here in Texas like anywhere else..but last night wasn't one of them. I've got to pay tribute to the two studs we fielded last night playing GUITAR (Don) and drums (Bobo). Don is a multi-instrumentalist...SELF TAUGHT. I think he doesn't understand all of mine and Marla's screwy ways and personailties yet...but I asked at one point that we all wait until after this first show to discuss in depth personal stuff like that. He came through damn well onstage. He's a huge mass of manhood...and I don't think too many hecklers are going to want to step on the stage with Don guarding it. Bobo used to play for SHIT for a few years which could've meant a bad evening for him. It's weird to play on the same bill with a band you spent years with. He rose above that..hell, he set up the damned show. His drumming style is a composite of the great points of so many of our best past drummers. Him and Don could probably tag up and kick any two peoples asses in the audience at any venue we're likely to play. But, they're just as likely to be gentle frigging giants and get drunk and hug babies and animals. That's GREAT.
The theme and lesson from last night for everybody should be that you can't expect new band members from an old band to be replica's of old ones. We KNEW that ahead of time and let all 3 of those guys be themselves. We succeeded.
I said it back in 1987 when we moved the creative nucleus of the band from Hollywood back to Portland to torment all the scene boobs there..I said it when we recruited Cosmo in 1994 in Philly..I've said it several other times at key moments for us over the last 22 frigging years..and I'll say it now: "YOU THOUGHT WE WERE GONE...but the VAT LIVES ON".
LIKE IT OR NOT..LEARN TO LIVE with it. LOVE IT..if you can.
First night staying in our new home. It's been a mostly rough day with a few bright spots..in other words a macro-analogy of my life. Or is that micro??
HEAR YEE HEAR YEE..this is the first fucking diary entry from this address..and it should be special I suppose. Elvis and I have been a two man nocturnal moving service for most of the week. We've been using rented trucks at first from Ryder and today from Penske. Both are FAR superior to UHAUL...a firm whose gear sucks so bad it inspired 100 pages that'll see the light of day eventually.
The main problem with our week is the fact that I have to remain pretty damn sober until the end of our nightly mission..can't risk getting nailed by the local San Marcos cops driving a rented 15 foot vehicle drunk. My nightly drinking has begun around 3:00 am instead of 8:00 or 9:00 pm like it fucking should for any sensible person. I get to sleep around 7:00 am and awake at 3:00 pm hungover from guzzling my booze rather than taking it slow.
Then, It's off to unpack or deal with whatever the latest crisis is concerning our move. This week we've had to deal with an increasing field mice problem in our backyard AND inside our house as well. When the cunt who sold us this castle pulled out her washer-dryer she left a hole that the little buggers could be sneaking in through. We've seen an alarming number of meece droppings..so after stationing a helluva lot of Decon poison traps we posted our top rodent chaser..thee Whiskey Rebel's OFFICIAL cat Mr. Jinx to spend last night at the house to patrol. Today we've been smelling a dead mouse hidden somewhere within our four walls; the problem is WHERE?? WHERE?? the fuck is the dumb dead bastard?? did Jinxy get him?? or the poison??
A few days ago my two bass playing fingers were SMASHED to fucking pieces by a couple heavy panes of sliding glass slamming into them. Since I'm a rugged rawboned type it won't effect our show this Friday in San Antonio. I'll get by. Today I smashed two fingers on my RIGHT fucking hand to match the pain in the left. So that evens things up, right??
Sadly enough, today I've begun thinking our new house is either haunted..or there is a precense here that is out to cause trouble. We haven't actually seen a poltergeist..but a record rack holding 500 or so albums COLLAPSED suddenly. It seemed very mysterious. REMEMBER: this house was FLOODED enough to total the wall to wall carpeting in the house within' hours of our signing the papers. The hellcat bitch that we bought this place from swore and signed legal papers vowing that she had made a long laundry list of important and basic repairs on the house; being a church going Christian she LIED like a fucking rug. She didn't repair ANY of the shit and we eventually had to pressure the two real estate agents involved to cough up $$$ to pay for the repairs to avoid their commisions being disputed in Texas circuit court. One of the fella's sent over a local "handyman" that Marla has dubbed the "barefoot plumber". YES..that's RIGHT folks...a REAL LIVE barefoot plumber. He was shirtless too for that matter. He fixed the terminally leaky toilet though.
The insurance company paid us big bucks to have the carpet totally replaced..and since the baseboards were destroyed a new paint job was paid for...which of course we conducted OURSELVES and pocketed the money painters would've gotten. We have brand new wall to wall burgundy carpeting (in case we entertain wino's with shakey hands) and new paint on the walls...and hordes of wasp and hornet nests and ticks and mosquitoes all over the yard and an outdoor hot tub that will probably take a couple weeks or months work to activate due to the pest precense.
On the other hand, Marla cleaned and serviced the damned master bath deluxe jacuzzi tub that ol' fat bitch used to lower her damn wrinkled ass into; I lowered MY fat non-wrinkled ass into it and had the therapuetic bath of the millenium so far. It felt great..and it's ours and it's somehow intact and working perfectly.
Elvis and I are going to try to get in touch with our Satanist friends (email us! you know who you are..) to try to find a way to appease the spirits perhaps fucking with us on our property. Remember...we live next to a damn GRAVEYARD..and chunks of a very old decayed tombstone exist on our side of the property line. San Marcos claims to be the longest term constantly inhabited spot in North America thanks to the pure water springs here. I'm not ready to debate folks from other parts of the country..suffice it to say that before the Germanic sodbusters got here to the hill country there were American Indians (Comanches..Apaches) Mexican nesters....and before them Spanish Explorers dating way the fuck back. Our house is on the top of a hill that undoubtedly attracted people hundreds of years ago since folks from way way back have always been attracted to the high ground. Who knows who or WHAT the fuck may be buried in our rather large backyard??
Elvis said earlier tonight that we have to FIGHT for our fucking property just like Marla and I had to when we bought a house on S.E. Carruthers street in snoreland boregon and of course when we were matching wits with the shithead kids and their WORTHLESS lapsed-Catholic parents who lived on our fucked up block in Philly.
We'll fight with our new weedwacker..we'll fight with our friggin' Lawnmower. We'll burn up spray-bottles of hornet and wasp killer as fast as we guzzle down Lonestar beer. We'll have a sit-down with the dark forces who may have a problem with us..and eventually stake out the damned horse-shoe pit I've fantasized about for years.
Stopped in at the grocery store to pick up some extra beers..the official morning count in the frig was about 17 or so; that would usually hold me for a day..but it's hot weather season here in Texas and if Marla or Elvis should decide to get thirsty I could wind up in need. It's fun to buy beer anyway, so what the hell.
We stopped in at the smaller of the two H.E.B. grocery stores in town and I checked out the orange stickers indicating what the fuck was on sale. The good news was that 18 packs of COORS and COORS LIGHT cans were on sale for $9.99. The BAD news is that for some strange reasons indicating both the worthlessness of the human race (AND the effectiveness of Coors brewery's ability to swerve youthful college age drinkers into drinking DIET beer instead of clearly superior COORS original) the cooler was stuffed with 18 packs of silver colored diet COORS and there wasn't a single happy yellow case of normal COORS to be found. I ran into this problem back during the holidays. I've learned it's best to just go to the bigger H.E.B. store a mile away when it's time to stock up on REAL COORS. So, we hopped back into the car and headed off.
While pushing my cart down the beer cooler aisle at the much larger store I happened to notice MILLER HIGH LIFE 12 packs..bottles..were also on sale. I've been drinking so much BUDWEISER lately that I've found myself craving Miller's. So, I scooped up a 12 pack. A little further down the aisle I noticed that 12 packs of bottles of ROLLING ROCK were ALSO on sale. Elvis loves those icy, shiny green jewels..and so do I of course. I picked up a 12 pack of that too.
A while later waiting in line to pay I noticed a couple of college age guys que up behind us with THEIR beer purchase..a measely little 6 pack of cans of "Keystone" light.
WHOAH!!!! I thought...
I could understand if the guys had a keg of beer back at thier dorm or frathouse..and they were picking up a six pack of light suds for an Uncle who was forced after many hard years of heavy consumption to smoke Carlton's (ultra ultra low tar smokes) and drink pisswater light beer to appease a bitchy Wife. But NNooooo...I've learned from discreetly examing the contents of SWT students carts that there's an incredible high number of rum rookies on campus who buy beer in the smallest increments available.
What is wrong with our nations youths??
WHY in the fuck do the masses of people under 30 from sea to shining sea drink diet beer?? why do the most stallwart brewery's in the most powerful nation on earth feel compelled to market diet beer to the demographic group which is the most healthy?? I've spent much of the last 20 years either starving myself to peel off weight or alternately gorging myself like a happy King. I know GODDAMNED WELL that the number of calories in light beer is about 2/3rd's and often 3/4's of the cal's in NORMAL beer; and the TASTE?? AYE..there's the rub Horatio..normal beer is one of the few gifts mankind has been mysteriously given by the "gods" to balance out the overwhelming slings and arrows of outrageous mis-fortunes we are forced to endure throughout our crappy pissant lives.
DIET or "light" beer as they have brainwashed the masses into calling it tastes AWFUL. Hell, I'd rather drink bitter, expensive micro-spews than "light" beer.
So, when frat houses throw big parties..do they buy kegs of DIET beer?? I'd really like to know!! Maybe I'll have to infiltrate frat row on a Friday night. To me that seems so damned LUDICROUS...drinking "light" beer from a keg I've just gotta find out. Hell..even "Zima" almost makes sense when held up against this fad of "light" beer.
I'm gonna sit down with Elvis and have a talk with him. I've just gotta know if somebody in his circle of friends is trying to get unsuspecting teens to dabble with Diet beer. Elvis has been raised right and taught to follow the 10 commandments of drinking. As his Father I'll support him no matter what vocation he chooses to dedicate his life to; if he chooses an "alternate" sexual lifestyle..well then so be it..I'll be there for him. But if I start seeing the warning signs of "light" beer consumption on his part..I will have no choice but to put my foot down; if he still wants to opt for a lifestyle of swilling bad tasting diet beer I will have no choice but to declare.."I HAVE NO SON!!"
His Mother will be upset...she may never completely forgive me. I hope it never comes to that. I'll keep stocking up on ROLLING ROCK a few times of week and hope he doesn't fall in with the wrong crowd.
I recomend to parents of younger children that you begin training your kids as soon as possible in proper drinking habits. It's NEVER TOO SOON!! Teach them that a six pack of light beer isn't enough to get a fucking fly high. Be a SMART drinker yourself to set a good example and keep 3 or 4 corporate brands of beer in regular rotation in the family refrigerator. Beware of the warning signs that your Son or Daughter is into diet beer; look through their CD collection discreetly. If your teenaged Son is listening to "N'Sync" or the Backend Boyz for instance..your family has a PROBLEM to deal with. The CD'S are simply a WARNING sign that your Son is becoming a goddamned brainwashed diet beer WIMP. Note! I said "wimp" NOT Homosexual. Actual homosexuals I have known drink REAL booze in healthy quantitys. Most practicing homosexuals aren't part of the "light beer" problem.
It's very possible that your child is being exposed to WIMPY beer by what they see on Mtv or other cable TV channels that feature wussy pop entertainment. Marla and I purchase a 90 minute tape of old beer TV commercials from the 50's, 60's and 70's years ago. We've watched it repeatedly together as a family over the years and I'm happy to report that Elvis has several favorite old commericals such as the old HAMM'S beer jingle and of course the old CARLING BLACK LABEL "Mabel" add's. We included a few of them on our mid 90's Alcoholics Unanimous CD "Dr. Kegger M.D." so other folks could play them at home for their own kids.
Well, I'm off to set a topnotch example for El by knocking back a variety of corporate beers accompanied by a few shots of Jim Beam. I strongly urge YOU to do the same for your child tonight.
Elvis and I have played several Play Station games for years together. Possibly "Triple Play Baseball" in its various yearly release incarnations tops the list in terms of the game we've spent the most time on; SIMS has taken over our lives to an extent that I view buildings and houses and streets differently as I walk down a quiet street or cruise through our little goddamned town. But, for entirely different reasons than we amuse ourselves with SIMS we still play a lot of damned baseball.
The music programmed for Play Station baseball fans to listen to is predictably disgusting. So, we play our own damn music. A few weeks ago we stumbled upon an album that has turned out to be the ULTIMATE video game record for inspiring come-from-behind victories. We've ALWAYS liked the music of the man responsible for this miracle fucking album..but now we've become FANATICAL about the powers of this particular LP.
The album is: "The LEADER" an import collection of classic Gary Glitter material. It's no damn wonder "Rock and roll (part two)" is heard just about every night at every ballpark around the damned country. WE don't just play the one familiar song though like the rest of the world; perhaps that's why we win about 99.9% of our games???? Eh..?? Let's look at the album track by track.
Side 1: 1) "Rock and roll (part one)"...similar of course to the more familar "part 2" with it's "HAYEE AYYYY'S". There are words to this version...FIGHTING words that help rally our spirits. 2) "Baby please don't go"..an energetic reading of the blues classic that is so damn catchy I tend to forget our run deficit and swing the bat a lot looser. 3) "Hello! Hello! I'm back again"...a kick fanny glam classic. A fine reminder that REAL GLAM ROCK was produced in the 70's in the U.K; if you are one of the confused many who have been programmed by empty-TV to refer to 80's American secretary metal as "glam" you are a SHITHEAD with no taste. Gary testifies in this romping stomping number! "Hey, LOOK Elvis..we've just tied the damn GAME!" 4) "the Wanderer"..the talented Mr. Glitter certainly has probably wandered from bed to bed to bed from town to town to town. Reflecting upon his undoubtedly busy sex life gives new meaning to the lyric. 5) "I'm the leader of the gang" the best opening bars of any tune on the album..it starts out with a Harley being kick started to life. It's rocking and catchy as hell. Often by this point in the album we have a 5 run lead..and either choose to punish our foes or bring in backup players to mop up. We usually choose to PUNISH the bastards. Side 2...1) "Rock and roll (part two)"..just like we Irwin men, you've heard it a zillion times. It stilI sounds great every time though. Wonder how much Gary collects from this being played in stadiums world wide year round?? 2) "I didn't know I loved you 'til I saw you rock and roll"..you KNOW from the title it's gonna be killer. 3) "Do you wanna touch me"..one of a few GG songs Joan Jett (a native of Upper Darby..like key members of the BAD VIBES) covered pretty well. If you LIKED Joan's version..you'll LOVE the master's steamy take on it. 4) "Rock on"..a muscular number in which Mr. Glitter's band stands out. A good song to push us to the 20 run level since we're usually creaming the dickwads by now. 5) "I love you love me love"..a bawdy set ending strip tease. Also perfect for waving frosty celebration pitchers of brew in the air. In the past we've used MORTIS and others to turn around a ballgame...HEY! whatever works..right?? I've got a couple Gary Glitter albums that have some fine songs on 'em but they just don't hold up to that special import collection.
I was directed to an on-line "record review party" in which a couple former members of the Damned ripped into some CD's by some friends of mine. One of 'em also made a crack about how they started their band to replace "old dinosaurs" like Gary Glitter and Slade on the charts in the U.K. You know what??? I like about 10 songs by the Damned..and I really LOVE a couple of 'em; but if I had to choose between giving up my Slade Or Gary Glitter recordings..or dispense of my Damned collection....it wouldn't even be a CLOSE decision. If you disagree..why don't you go watch "final Damnation" and then look at yourself in the mirror...just stand there until it occurs to you where you've gone wrong.
I guess Steve Austin is doing alright. The last I heard he was spotted by TV station KOMO San Antonio helicopters cruising along in his yellow 2002 Corvette. It was said that he had an obvious open container of beer....(how they could spot that from a helicopter is anybodies guess) and his reaction to the aerial pursuit was an UPRAISED MIDDLE FINGER. He hasn't been charged with any crime..and an interview I read with Brother-in-law Jeff Jarrett urged everyone to take a wait and see attitude towards the severity of his alleged domestic cruelty.
Sounds like time off from the job for ol' Stonecold. I'm wearing a SCU T-shirt at this moment..which of course stands for "Stonecold University". It's sweat stained from a couple days of service. I guess it's safe to change shirts now. I bet Steve "Dr. Death" Williams who shares Stonecold's legit name is more pissed off about all the hoopla than a flat chested Sunday school superintendant at a wet T-shirt contest.
HEY! I'm gonna have to get into Women's basketball whenever their next damn season begins (Elvis says a season is in progress). WHY?? Because my all time favorite basketball player Bill Laimebeer has been announced head coach of the Detroit team whatever the hell they are named. For those who have forgotten, big Bill holds numerous distinctions as one of the alltime heels in professional sports history. He was the lynch-pin rulebreaker on a squad of "bad boys" (a team nickname) that included a very young Dennis Rodman (Whom Bill counseled) as well as acknowledged future troublemakers Rick Mahorn and John Salley. Bill was able to rack up an incredible consecutive games streak playing at the center position against some of the biggest and baddest athletes in sports history.
One of Bill's trademark specialties was a defensive position flop when the ref's back was turned accompanied by convincing sound effects to draw a foul. Whereas a lot of players do that occasionally, Bill was the MASTER of this tactic. He also fought an impressive list of players in his career in the NBA including "nice guy" Larry Bird.
When I was still living in Portland I rooted for the Pistons against the local "Portland Failure-blamers" team in the NBA finals. One local newspaper account reported a couple local boys admiring one of Big Bills championship rings as he exited a Portland theatre after a matinee showing. His comment to the boys was "you like it?? well..it's the CLOSEST you'll ever be to one!!".
I still have a VHS tape copy of the Pistons eliminating Snoreland in the finals. Whenever I watch it I get nostalgic for the good old days when basketball was worth following. According to Elvis the NBA has shaped up a bit....I may give 'em another chance next season. DAMNED SURE I'll be checking out the female Detroit squad with Big Bill coaching 'em.
Shit. The latest update on the Steve Austin situation is not something I exactly look forward to writing about; but what the hell...since I've been making so many comments about his situation lately I can't puss out now.
Unless this is the most elaborate work of the new century, police in his home town of San Antonio reportedly were called to his house over the weekend to respond to a charge that he "beat" his Wife Debra to some extent. I read it for myself on a TV station website. He wasn't at home when the police arrived..and Debra evidently DIDN'T press any charges against him. They say he left in a yellow 2002 Corvette.
All I can say is....SEE WHAT Vince bringing in the Chumpster and the nWo guys has led to?? If poor Steve did indeed get violent with his Wife, that's BAD. But we DON'T KNOW SHIT yet. Again, this could be a work. It could also be a case of a Wife filling the police departments heads with lies. We DON'T know. There could be an explanation bringing in facts to bear that we can't envision as outsiders. It damn well seems a certainty Hogan's brought bad juju (sp?) to the WWE though.
I hope Austin isn't tried by the press; he probably is due for a dragging through the damn mud though. Since his gimmick is that of a heavy beer drinker what do you wanna bet the anti-fun, touchy-feely, politically correct, cause-oriented, stuck up U.S. media will rip into him once they get ahold of this story??
The truth is non-drinkers are violent tyrants too. My old man never took a drink until I talked him into drinking wine with his meal when I was 17 or so. Neither did my mousy little Mother. Both professed to be caring Christians and were very popular in their church. Yet, both of them when I was a defenseless little kid beat the crap out of me with belts and waffle iron cords and painful specially sharpened switches. On every block in every town in the USA lives a "peace loving/non-drinking Christian" who has beat the crap out of his defenseless children or his Wife. Often both.
It's one thing to give your child a swat on the rump when they get out of line..and another to go nutso with fists or foreign objects. It's one thing to grab your sweetheart by the arm a bit hard or push her or him away. It's another thing entirely to beat the crap out of them.
SOME kids deserve it though in my mind....such as kids that rape other kids..or kids that drive other kids to suicide. But NOT kids that do little more than leave their toys around or smartoff once in a while. And SOME "significant others" deserve to be beaten to a fucking pulp. This DOESN'T include Wives who merely burn the meatloaf or look at another guy once in a while. Go read a few Ann Rule books if you want to be introduced to some Women and Men who actually DESERVE a flaming bed or a trip to fist city complete with crimson mask.
Marla and Elvis wondered out loud tonight why none of our new neighbors from our Cul-De-Sac had brought us a brown betty yet (thanks again to our long lost cousin who sent a recipe in the last time I mentioned a "brown betty" which has been celebrated on Texas-located Mike Judge cartoon "King of the Hill").
I explained to them that our new neighbors have probably seen us come and go painting and cleaning shit up. Undoubtedly they are holding a block-wide prayer meeting..PERHAPS TONIGHT..in hopes that we are merely domestic help and not the new tenants.
I can practically hear them lift their voices to heaven: "oh lord..PLEASE don't let those folks be our new neighbors. The woman seems fairly normal..but both of those fella's have enough hair to mop with, lord!"
We've been blasting the hell out of beer cans in the backyard with pellet guns for over a week. Perhaps if they catch wind of that they'll realize we AREN'T hippies or liberals; we're longhaired rednecks like syndicated talkshow host Ted Nugent.
I've had ample time to check out our new shithouse's in this house. Of course I'll primarily shit on the one off the master bedroom. The stool isn't quite as comfortable as some I've owned, but it's nestled directly next to the tub..which makes it a TOP NOTCH place to shit and puke at the same time. Not that I get to do that all that often...I only have twice. But I'M SHOOTING FOR THE STARS. I can dream.
Elvis and I hit Wallmart in the middle of the night and brought home the "official" Whiskey Rebel Weed-Eater last night. This is VERY fucking different for me. I've hated yard work and yards and domestic puttering around of all types for my entire adult life. It's a NEW thing for me to plan attack with the half acre or so yard (which has a stray chunk of cracked tombstone from the adjacent cemetary in one corner).
What the hell...Jeff Clayton owns a riding mower and I've watched him use it; it isn't there for some damned gardener. Bukowski (who has to be the anti-yard work guy of all time literary wise) makes references in books from his last 15 years or so of mowing his yard and even watering it and using an edger.
What's that?? A few people out there think it's "un-cool" to mow a lawn??
Where have I gone wrong?? I thought I weeded out (pardon the pun) all the readers who would judge someones "coolness" by whether they admit to mowing their lawn or doing their laundry or making out their tax return or scrub a shit stain out of their damn stool.
It's neither cool or uncool to mow a damn lawn. It's a damned neccesity once in a while. Mick Foley mows his lawn..I've SEEN him do it. In my minds eye..
I've taken a mundane stroll through the grocery store with a dozen rock musicians many people find it hard to believe would even enter a grocery store.
How in the fuck do they eat then?? Hhmmm???
I talked to people from Victoria Texas who've seen Stonecold Steve Austin pushing a cart; a singer from an old band of mine yakked for a few minutes with George Jones at a grocery store. The first time I ever met a pro wrestler was when my old man started up a conversation at a mall with former WWF world heavyweight champeen' Stan "the man" Stasiak". They were both regular guys waiting..standing around jingling change in their pockets..for their wives to finish shopping.
PHONEY people pretend to live beyond their means financially and socially and domestically. I had an Uncle and Aunt who ate bologna and didn't have a pot to pee in..but they managed to pay country club dues..HOW DISGUSTING!!
Yeah, I'd rather drink beer in an easy chair than mow a lawn; but ONCE in a while you have to climb out of that damn chair and face reality beyond 16 hours per day drinking. If you want to live past 35 that is. I drink about 4-6 hours per day..and sleep 8 or so. I keep the remaining hours free for TCB'ing. I've spent many, many, many days and weeks and months drinking more and more hours..and I've had many MORE times in my life where I had to get the drinking part done in 2 hours or even less because I worked 2 jobs.
All you kiddies that can't imagine your pop hero's either famous or relatively obscure mowing a lawn or eating a mundane salad or can of soup for dinner and going to bed at 9:00 pm rather than having a night on the town have a LOT TO FUCKING LEARN!!
Juvenile people that HANG OUT....24-7...HANG OUT..HANG OUT..HANG OUT...make me fucking sick. Going to the mall just to stand around; going somewhere to drink coffee and hope someone talks to you. Hanging out at a club waiting to meet "cool" people.
These are the people who complain about being "bored".
To quote the master himself ol' C.B. "Only the boring are bored".
I don't want to come across as holyier than thou...for fucks sake I went through some periods in my life where I spent time "hanging out" waiting for something to happen. Eventually I learned how to have a schedule so cram packed you forget your band members last names (a true recent story). I always seem to owe somebody I like a package that's 3 months overdue.
But, lets check the numbers: I've appeared on..I don't know..70 or so CD'S and records (including comp's) over 20 odd years. I've played live shows and done book readings in 20 or so States. I've written 700 pages spread across 3 novels in about 4 years or so. I keep in touch with people from probably 40 or so States. I'm always facing a column deadline for a magazine...ALWAYS. Still, I find time for this damn diary and I never miss a goddamned band rehearsal.
If your ultimate goal is to be a part time janitor or janitress (is that a real word?) more power to you. If you've found a way to stay holed up in your lonely room 24-7 beating off and watching "Oprah"..more power to ya'. If you're social life consists of sitting at a coffee shop nursing a cheap cup of coffee while writing on napkins..more power to you. Please don't fault those of us who've "sold out" to societys demands that we mow our lawns or get fined by the city or bitched at by a loved one.
I'm listening to Webb Pierce. He quit his job selling paint at Sears and became one of the greatest singers I've ever heard. He eventually had a car custom built with hundreds of auctual silver dollars imbedded everywhere. He owned the first guitar shaped pool in Nashville. He might have failed and wound up working the snake for "Roto-Rooter". I bet he mowed his own lawn right up to the end though...and would have either way.
Our new carpet is being layed tomorrow..burgundy colored throughout the house. The 3 of us have painted most of the fucking inside of the damned house while dehumifier's have roared away. Not alot of fun. The interior finally looks like something though. We're gonna try for a Western motif..hopefully I can find a branding iron or two or a deer trophy laid out by a taxidermist at a thrift shop. Is it considered b.s. in Texas to hang it if you didn't bag it??? If so I won't. We'll hang some panchos and Mexican paintings on the wall instead. Maybe a portrait of Louis L'amour?? (yeh..I've read 50 or so of his books) side by side with one of Pancho Villa???
Maybe I'll take a cowbell to our show on the 28th in San Antonio and bring it home bloody as a trophy for the wall??
We practised with Elvis the other night..and he knew about 95% of the words without even concentrating. His delivery is XLNT of course. Remember, he grew up from the age of 3 with "Uncles" at close hand such as Pig Champion, Jello Biafra, Jeff Clayton, Cosmo, Alan King, etc. Most importantly he grew up "behind the scenes" music wise and has met everybody from Anti-Nowhere league to Dolemite to Lee Ving to Poison Ivy to Big Jay McNeely to Pat Todd. Even MORE IMPORTANTLY YET...he's been exposed repeatedly to the good influence of our pals from the CONFEDERACY of SCUM. A few minutes yakking with Commander P.P. or Travis and Liza Kinney or B-Face from the Tunnel Rats can give a young fellow a leg up on understanding just WHAT THE FUCK rock and roll is all about better than any other schooling you'll get on the subject. Need I remind anyone that at age 8...yeah..FUCKING EIGHT years old he co-wrote a Poison Idea song. It's titled "What he said"..and is on the "Religion and Politics pts. 1&2" 10" and CD. He's collaberated with the likes of Bootleg Bill himself in Bill's personal fortress of solitude. He physically is in his bitch magnet prime being a few months short of 18..exactly the right age to get up on stage. He was still rather innocent up to a couple years ago..but he's grown up equally comfortable walking through the dangerous rough and tumble streets of Hostile City or small town Texas. I'll have to remember to remind him to wear for good luck Jeff Claytons old touring hat which he was given by thee Godfather years ago.
I reminded the other boys Don and John at practice that we did indeed work for a long time with a singer even younger than Elvis is now. His name was Jason Lang...little Brother of Jerry Lang..better known as Jerry A. from POISON IDEA. There are several songs from our time with Jason as our singer available on our Alcoholics Unaniomous CD "Hangover Cure". Even though Jason's voice was better in the opinion of some (such as Marla) than his well known Bro', he seemed to have a tough time at the age of 17 following in his footsteps in other ways. On his 18th birthday he layed out $1,000 for the biggest damn tattoo I've ever seen in my life!! It covered most of his back and reached pretty far down both arms. He shocked the fuck out of Mom with it!!
We'll eventually locate another Vat singer..but I'm looking forward to blowing a few minds in the meantime. If I recall correctly Walt from BEFORE I HANG and some other folks RECOMMENDED we enlist Elvis in the first place down here. What the fuck..we'll have the camera's rolling that night. Meanwhile, I'm not gonna make this a public gossip forum or musicians classified. A permanent singer will appear seemingly out of nowhere at some point as far as the masses are concerned.
HEY...GREAT news for San Francisco and surrounding area Whiskey Rebel-roos. I'm meeting in mid-July with my BLOOD relatives for the 1st time ever in Southern Oregon. On the way and on the way back I'm gonna be appearing at select clubs and record/book stores. One date that is SOLID is July 20th at a club in S.F with HAMMERLOCK and an incredible 2nd band whose identity I'm going to hold in reserve for a few days until I get used to the fact of their precense and what it means to our conquest of Texas. I anticipate about 4 dates or so.
We're gonna be driving through Arizona and New Mexico. I assume we'll be drinking every night in an air conditioned motel room. But, on the off chance somebody along our route in those States has an offer of an appearance they'd best get in damn touch.
I really don't wanna go back to Portland this time. We HAVE TIME to stop in the L.A. area..but I need somebody to spur me into action on that front. San Diego?? We could do it; maybe a club jammed with the half dozen or so proud drunks from Ted Williams hometown who email me.
If a decent $$$ offer comes in I'll swallow my pride and go deliver the goods. I'd rather visit a small town record store, club or book store that's off the map as far as most people are concerned..but... What the fuck.
After writing my last brief entry about Steve Austin's walkout and the enduring pathetic-ness that is Chumpomania..and the goddamned Nwo I checked out a few websites and read some other opinions. Or, should I say read the same opinion over and over and over which just happens to be diametrically opposed to MY opinion. All the columnists at 1wrestling.com and the Observor guys are all harping at how Austin shouldn't have walked; how he should've done the job for the rookie on TV.
Fine enough fellows....if it weren't for the fact that so many other Motherfuckers who are competing for the top spots in the WWE don't do the job for anybody without putting up a major stink of their own. Nash is too chickenshit to even wrestle..much less put over new talent. The Rock is "too big" to even showup for TV. Hogan's got the worst record perhaps in the history of the biz for allowing clean pins. HHH has his schnozz buried up Vince's asshole; he's not putting anybody over unless he feels like it.
Look at how many times poor old Ric Flair did the job for Hogan and Nash and Bagwell and Bishoff and other pukes in WCW. It would be OK if they reciprocated..but we NEVER saw those guys get cleanly pinned by Flair. He did it because he's a big company man. In my opinion, his image is tarnished quite a bit for all time as a result. Hell...he STILL rarely wins a match. He did the job for Vince the other night for fucks sake.
I don't blame Austin for avoiding becoming a bootrag for those other clowns. Maybe he'll just go home and drink beer?? Why not??
Some of the columnists I've read have actully recommended that the WWE roll back the clock and go back to the "pre-WWF Attitude" days. Oh WOW!!! Just what we need!! Back to the retarded days of clearcut hero's and villains as perceived by 12 year old cub scouts..GREAT! These nerds who want to re-visit the good ol' days back when they'd sit in their PJ's and watch Hogan and his cartoon matches are the same idiots that STILL HAVEN'T woken up and Smelled the friggin stinkin' coffee...HOGAN IS KILLING WRESTLING in the year 2002!!!!!!!! The masses have been exposed to the now unfortunately defunct ECW...they'll NEVER go back to cheering cleancut hero's.
You can't cram the Jeanie back into the damn bottle in this case any more than you could get folks to go back to black and white TV or music videos or commercials where the camera remains fixed upon one shot for several seconds at a time.
Gee..I wonder how the masses would respond to "best 2 out of 3 falls" matches with alot of rest-up headlocks??? FORGET IT!!
Well, I'm just gonna relax and sit back and drink beer with ol' Stonecold on Monday nights rather than sit and wring my hands over a possible lost cause. If Vince finally figures out Hogan's the turd in the punchbowl in time..he can save his promotion. If he doesn't..well....some other promoter smart enough not to hire Hogan and his pals will step up.
Stone Cold Steve Austin reportedly walked out of the arena and flew home with his Wife Debra a few hours before "Raw" Monday night. I've read from a few reliable sources that he's pissed off at the WWE's direction recently.
The ratings for both WWE's Monday and Thursday night shows are down the toilet ever since Chump Hogan and the Nwo guys were brought in. Remember how I warned of this months ago?? HHMMM?????
Remember how many times I waggled my finger in this diary and warned the world at large that (quote) "Chump Hogan RUINS every promotion he works for". Well, after a flash in the pan of nostalgic fan interest that lasted about 2 weeks the title has been rescued from Chumpster. The Nwo bit turned out to be a total failure. Nash already has sufferred through an injury and Scott Hall was run out of the company for reputed drunkeness on the job.
The writers began to phase the Nwo bit out (finally!)...but Nash and X-pac reportedly complained to management and Sean Michaels has been brought out of mothballs as a non-wrestler to try to breath life into the sad old unconvincing routine. Why do I hate the Nwo bit?? Because it's been beaten into the ground over and over; because so many of those ex-Wcw guys changed sides so many times so fast it was ridiculous. But, MOSTLY I hate that bit because Nash and friends try too hard to be cool...and THEY'RE NOT cool. They're BORING and out of touch. They just walk through scripted beatdowns and NEVER wrestle or seem to even act out their parts with a passion.
Austin had to work for months trying to make Hall and Nash look good; I can't blame him for being fed up and walking. Next thing you would have seen him forced to tag up with Hogan...YUCCKK!
I shave about every two months or so. I haven't been completely clean shaven in a long time; probably about 10 years or so. Every 18 months or so I have my ponytail trimmed back a bit over the kidney line or so. I mostly wear sweat pants and T-shirts people give me minus the sleeves.
Probably even some of my best friends think I dress and groom myself like a goddamned bum..but I'm making up for the first half of my life when it comes to taking a break from regular shaving to the skin, neat haircuts and church or business dress clothes.
I've written quite a bit about the church I was dragged to as a kid..but I don't think I've ever stressed just how uncomfortable the monkey suits I was forced to wear were. They were itchy as fuck..and about as uncool as a stack of Lennon Sisters and sing-along-with-Mitch Lp's. Nowdays when I see people walking out of a church a lot of them are wearing jeans and very casual clothes. Our church when I was a kid would turn any gal away not wearing a dress of a modest length..and I flatout NEVER saw a man attend our church minus a shirt and tie. Even in the mid 60's most of the men in our damn church wore crewcuts or very closely cropped slicked back hair-dos (WITHOUT sideburns!).
I didn't go for ANY of that as you may guess..but I didn't have much choice until I eventually faced up to my old man and "duked it out" in the garage with him when I was 14. Until then unless I was seriously ill or participating in a chess tournament somewhere I was at their church sporting a conservative suit and hair-do.
When I entered the work world I tried many different jobs but wound up being pressured into taking lots of office jobs and retail sales jobs that often required that I maintain a businesslike appearance.
When I was 27 I took the great career plunge of my life and managed to get hired and serve as Area manager for the worlds largest inventory service. I lasted a year and a half and wound up leaving at a time that was convenient to me after I had proved myself better than all the other area managers who were unoriginal ass-kissers for the most part. That year and a half I was rarely out of a 3 piece suit. Hell..I worked a minimum of 55-60 hours per week and once worked 92. It was totally unacceptable for me to show up to work even with a day or two of stubble. I managed the San Fernando valley crews in L.A. and the district AND FUCKING REGIONAL offices were in adjacent Thousand oaks. I had to be so fucking neat and tidy and squeeky fucking clean it's sickening.
Is it any wonder I just completely let myself go when first given the opportunity?? What if I wind up again someday (doubtful..but you never know) having to shave and dress up for some fucking job??? I gotta enjoy being an unkempt slob while I can.
I've thought for a long while about going out and getting a couple suits that are dark and comfortable to wear out to book readings and nights out on the town. They always feel alot better when you wear them by choice. I like the sort of suits fellow-full-figured guys Junior Brown and Sleepy Labeef wear. We'll see.
The DEE DEE tribute continues here in our household with taped music playing 19 hours per day. Elvis is still wearing his RAMONES T-shirt..and will continue to do so (without washing it) until our show in San Antonio June 28th. He's our guest RANCID VAT singer that night since we've parted company musically with our wrestler pal Damin Manson. We wish him well even though he may or may not hate our guts for the time being.
Elvis has been working with his own damn band (The CATS FROM MARS) for a few months and he owes those guys his longterm allegiance..but since he's now almost 18..and has grown into six feet five 209 2/10 pounds of twisted steel and sex appeal we figure it'll be a treat for the Alamo city to see him front our band. He already knows about 95% of the words to the songs since after all he was the 3rd person in the room (maybe playing with action figures in the background) when ol' Cosmo and I wrote some of our classic songs. Our cover songs are all family favorites that he knows as well if not better than we do. He has his Mothers mean streak and good practice habits..and his old mans XLNT taste and natural born ability.
I encourage folks sitting on the fence over buying a plane ticket to come see the show to DO SO if they want to join us in paying tribute to DEE DEE.
The bill is loaded with fine Texas bands: the BULEMICS from Austin..BAGHDAD BOMBERS and SHIT from San Antonio...It's even ALL AGES..but alcohol is served..and will be guzzled with glee.
Incidentally.....Elvis is NOT a drugstore cowboy..he's NOT a rhinestone cowboy..he's a SPACE COWBOY. I might also point out that I'm particularly ravishing and pretty after 6 months of drinking LONESTAR BEER. You never know if we select another singer tomorrow or next week..but we damn shure guarantee a unique Rancid Vat experience June 28th when the band will be fronted by the man-child who's scheduled to inherit the vaults and legacy of Brilliancy Prize records lock stock and barrel one day. WHOO!!!!
We haven't even gotten over Joey yet..and now Dee Dee. Shit.
I read a few hours ago that Dee Dee Ramone was found dead of an overdose. I put it to the back of my mind so that I could TCB since I'm awful damn busy these days. I knew I'd wind up sitting here trying to express some of my damn thoughts on his death before I hit the rack..here I am.
When Waylon Jennings died a while back I stumbled upon a "yahoo" message board intended I presume for use by his fans to eulogize him; instead I found that 19 out of 20 posts were from people running down Waylon. Most of the posts fell into 4 categories: 1) total boobs..real life Beevis and Butthead types posting stuff like "Waylons poopoo stank". 2)"softcore" redneck/hillbilly/white-trash bashers 3) people who legitamately seem to hate white people..and wanted to use the message board as a forum 4) People wanting to APPEAR to be black and anti-white to make blacks look ridiculous. These people layed it on really thick.
I posted a tribute to Waylon anyway.
Tonight I checked Yahoo and wasn't surprised to see an identical message board presumably intended for fans of Dee Dee. I didn't want to get bogged down in all that again..but I DID want to see if the same sort of messages were being posted as were posted when Waylon died.
I WAS RIGHT. My theory held. I read a "death to pink toes" message right off I assumed was posted by a white racist to make it appear a black had posted it. I read plenty of nonsense that fits into the above categories in about 5 minutes of scanning.
Then, I left and started this diary entry. I've seen enough piles of dogshit in my time I don't need to look closely at each fresh steaming pile I come across.
Message boards like those for Waylon and now Dee Dee are PROOF that what I've said a million times about the specific BADNESS of humanity.
I read an insulting quickie post from an anti-drug type who essentially said the Ramones were a worthless band..because Dee Dee was a heroin user. I might ask of this boob why he thinks HE'S such a virtuos fellow all but pissing on a dead man's grave?? And doing so PUBLICLY. I'll bet our new house the clown is a bible toting christian who feels like he's setting a proper example.
I say CLEAN UP YOUR OWN BACKYARD MOTHERFUCKER BEFORE YOU START IN ON DEE DEE. Why isn't the dumb ignorant bastard out there ridding his church of pedophile preachers for instance?? I'll tell you why..because that would require lifting his lazy, thoughtless ass out of his desk chair.
Junkies and nihilistic drunks can be found in every damn section of the friggin' cosmic record store. Do I need to list examples??? I think not. Jazz musicians, country, lounge crooners, doo wop singers, etc. Alot of the folks with cleancut images have led the charge when it comes to gulping down pills or banging dope in their arms.
The cause of Elvis Presley's death has been analyzed over and over and over. It took YEARS for alot of his fans to even admit that he had been using drugs. When his bodyguards (who I think turned traitor on him) wrote about his drug use a short time before his death people in large numbers accused them of making it all up. A few short years later Albert Goldman wrote a book sensationalizing his drug use..and ridiculing virtually every aspect of the King's life.
Since then more balanced and historically sound books about the big man have been written such as "Last train to Memphis" and it's followup by Peter Guralnick (sp.?).
To be blunt, I think junkies are idiots for getting sucked into expensive drug habits. Now of course I recognize a junkie could turn that around on me and say it's pathetic that I have a beer belly from all that alcohol I guzzle. My next move in a debate of alcohol vs. heroin is to point out the fact that I can easily support my drinking "habit"..whereas only wealthy junkies (like Burroughs and Kobain) can afford their drug of choice without resorting to theft of one sort or another. Let's face it..the words "junkie" and "thief" are interchangable in our society. My Wife once pointed this out to a convicted bank-robber/junkie who wrote her from prison. He was very upset that she'd just assume he'd steal from HER. I've personally heard heroin users I've known for years say they'd steal from their Mother if neccessary. Hell, go read Hubert Selby's book "requiem for a dream" (or rent the movie if you're lazy). The opening scene depicts a junkie rolling his Mom's TV on a cart down the street to the pawn shop. It goes downhill fast from there.
Two terrifying "boogeymen" according to the masses in the U.S. are heroin and Satanism. I'm here to tell you, it's stupid to ridiculously villify either one. The Church of Satan turned out to be rather practicle; not at ALL what I had been lead to expect. On the other hand when I succumbed to "free samples" of tar heroin 9 or 10 years back I could see the lives of the people with habits providing the samples all going down the toilet without exception. There's nothing so evil about heroin implicitly. But due to the money required to support a habit It's got a TERRIBLE fucking track record of turning peoples lives into sheer fucking hell. Go back about a year in this journal and read about my ex-coworker from Tower who O'D'd if you want a real life Sunday school example.
Music fans can't help but wonder WHY an all-time legend would die at an early age. For that reason Dee Dee in death can't help but provide a sermonette (maybe a good one) for impressionable kids who are being led to think heroin is "glamorous". If you could ask him beyond the grave he might WANT his death to serve as an example. We'll never know. He FUCKED UP and it cost him his life.
But no matter how his life came to an end that doesn't detract from the fact that he played in an incredibly creative group that it seems has influenced more bands in the last quarter century than most bands that sold 20 times as many records.
When the RAMONES came along there was no musical precedent to what they were doing anywhere on the face of the earth. Their love of early rock and roll was obvious from the way they worked in sounds reminiscent of old girl group songs or 60's psych tunes into their own music. Early on they established a "schtick" and a way of presenting themselves and playing bonehead 3 chord music that was an incredibly potent answer for people like me who were fucking FED UP with long winded cock-rock bands.
It's almost impossible for people in this day and age who are too young to remember just how AWFUL the first half of the 70's were with the fucking hippies having a stranglehold on the music press, music clubs and the major record labels. Even if you never liked the RAMONES for one reason or another (I can think of two long-term friends who don't like 'em) you've GOT to admire them for their balls. They didn't take the easy way out. They were fucking DIFFERENT. Stodgy old hippies who read Rolling Stone magazine as if it was the gospel were SHOCKED when the Ramones came along with their 3 chord songs and their leather jackets and jeans. In some cities they played $1 midnight concerts booked after "normal" concerts to try to entice unadventurous listeners to check them out in person. They were ridiculed and raked over the coals by quote "real musicians". It was said over and over and over that they COULDN'T play. Of course years later alot of the same magazines that had bashed them (such as "guitar player") decided to praise them.
I remember Pig Champion telling me he learned to play guitar playing along to RAMONES albums...I know of a lot of other people who did too. The REASON they were such an influetial band that so many other bands learned from is the fact that they were the great goddamned SIMPLIFIERS of modern guitar oriented music. Alot of the early wave of Punk rock bands played music that was fucking difficult to play; Richard Hell...and Billy Idol's Generation X for instance. I sure as hell after 20 years can't play along with "999" as much as I like their music. The RAMONES gave HOPE to ordinary aspiring musicians who had been force fed the hippie line of crap that you had to play like Eric Clapton or Rick Wakeman to be worthy of playing rock and roll.
I never saw the RAMONES play live believe it or not. I DID get to briefly meet Dee Dee last Fall when Jello came around to visit in Philly and I wound up playing a small bodyguard role in the movie he and Dee Dee were appearing in. As Jello and I walked to the bar where the movie director and a dozen or so people appearing or working in the film were boozing it up he pointed out in jolly fashion that Dee Dee was a fun charachter to meet. Jello told me long ago that he was immediately inspired to start a band in the first place after seeing the RAMONES play live.
They just had that effect on everybody....yep.
Anyway, I got to sit for an hour between Dee Dee and Jello as they talked back and forth. I rarely make with too much small talk when I first meet a legend who probably gets sick of answering the same questions over and over. Unless I'm drunk of course..anyway, it was just fun to watch those two guys yakk away.
We just finished listening to "It's Alive"...which is one of my favorites.
I just knocked back my third shot in Dee Dee's honor.
It's gonna be a long night. The tribute to Dee Dee will not END tonight though. I get the feeling it hasn't even hit me full force yet. If it hits me really hard when I'm driving down the street next Tuesday I won't be surprised. There've been TOO MANY damn deaths of wrestlers and rock personages over this last year. We haven't even gotten over Joey yet..and now Dee Dee. Shit.
Goddamn. I expected I might continue in soap opera fashion after the last entry..but I had no IDEA how fucked up things have been.
The question floating around in my mind when I posted last was whether or not we were being SAPS by granting the helpless broad a 4th or 5th chance who had let us down and let down her real estate agent and lied to the escrow people and us etc, etc..a woman with little left to lose after a divorce, bankruptcy and sale of her home.
First off..she totally fucking lied to everyone involved about making repairs on the house that were mandatory to us agreeing to the deal. She signed legal papers swearing she had..but she fucking LIED.
LESSON #1: the Whiskey Rebel's theory about the stupidty of trusting people who have let you down already is proven to be sound. If we had known all along she was a mad-dog divorcee with little to lose we wouldn't have made an offer on the house..but of course it's almost impossible to find out things like that until it's too late. We've been DRAGGED into her ORBIT OF FAILURE. Marla and I have had bad periods in our almost quarter century together; I've commited criminal acts when I was hungry; but I've gone to bed hungry too. I can recognize a BAD situation in the life of a total stranger..HELL..I was a goddamned bill collector at the age of 20. I repo'd cars from people just like the bitch who has dragged us into her circle of woe.
I can't really blame somebody who has hit bottom for pulling dis-honest bullshit like that cunt has..but I'LL BE GODDAMNED if i'm going to feel like I have to solve her problems or be a humble victim.
LESSON #2: you can be braced for a blow from one direction and be caught offguard by an attack from an unexpected source.
Sunday the seller lady finally cleared her stuff out of our house. As I predicted it seemed we won her over a bit by cutting her that extra slack. Her real estate agent hired a guy who lives nearby to clear her stuff out of the sheds and garage. Monday the water was turned on in our now empty new house. THANKFULLY the guy who was hauling her shit off noticed water running out of an entrance to our house. He looked in the window and saw a swimming pool forming in the living room. I got a couple panic phone calls and Elvis and I headed over to the house.
I pointed out to Elvis that whereas my mood had been poor over the weekend and my psychic energy battery had been running low..the report of the flood seemed to give me an odd strength. I went into a sort of "bring it on" mood. I haven't been depressed or low since then actually. My mind works in mysterious ways. I can totally flip out and feel suicidal over something tiny and silly..but be solid as a rock and wise and cool as a convention of philosophers when it comes to the big things.
By the time Elvis and I got to our house we knew that the water had been shut off. It was up to us to determine the extent of the damage and deal with Chuck our insurance agent. El called me over to the washer/dryer hookup area. He had seen water dripping lightly from the washer spigot. It took him several turns to shut the drip off.
AHA!!! Sabotage??? or an unfortunate error???
It's up to Chuck to work that out. Meanwhile we are lucky to have wisely started our homeowners insurance back up the day we signed the papers. We'll have to shell out $$$ for the deductable; but the insurance company will cover carpeting for the house. The flood waters are being dried by a company that does that sort of thing. We have to pick out a new carpet color.
I have a message for any friends who hear we just bought a new large home and that means we must have a lot of money: HAH!!!!! We'll somehow manage to scrape by like we always have..now I've really got to figure out a way to sell a couple adds for this diary page.
Elvis and I scraped the most tasteless wallpaper this side of Jim and Tammy Baker's old house today. Marla worked on technical tasks that require know-how. I'm a pisspoor handyman but I've resolved to get involved doing yardwork and shit like that that I've always hated. The backyard is amazingly beautiful and will be a great place to drink once we've fought some more battles. Elvis and I had target practice with pellet guns in our yard 70 yards from the nearest neighbor. Then we declared war on the several nests of hornets that have sprung up to test us. We laughed as the nests went up in foamy eruptions. One of these days I'm gonna have to face a REAL challenge; the millionaires at the end of our cul-de-sac are sorta prone to dropping in it seems..and I'm sure I'm gonna get the chance to schmooze with them. Will they bring over a "Brown-Betty" like Peggy Hill would???
This goddamned entry was supposed to posted last night...and it was an entirely different subject. But, thanks to the latest in a series of moving related woes I was interrupted over and over..sent off on false errands a half dozen times and ended the evening playing Play Station games simply TRYING TO FORGET the days events.
The theme to focus on for this sad story (which is still continuing...I'll go make my next move after this diary entry) is "that's what happens when you try to cut people some slack".
As I've said in the past "DO GOODERS FUCK EVERYTHING UP".
And when I attempt to be a do gooder the results are no different.
I violated a common sense ordinance cited in a couple of Uncle Anton's church of Satan guidebooks. To paraphrase it ..when someone lets you down after you've already TRIED to help them out..cut them loose..don't expend any more of your precious time or energy or assets on them.
I'm not a formal satanist..but you don't need to be to recognize the brilliance of that theory. If someone is not willing to unplug their ears and listen to your advice about dealing with a bad situaion...YOU'VE DONE ALL YOU CAN. It's time to wash your hands of it. if you don't walk away from the situation you'll get sucked further into it.
This goes for folks you know with girlfriend/boyfriend problems, problems at work, problems with bandmembers (I get that one alot), financial problems, etc.
You know, of all the people I bought beer for regularly because they were going through financial hardships only ONE OR TWO people ever returned the favor when I couldn't afford beer. The rest of them headed for the hills when the free beer stopped flowing. As a result I'm NOT a soft touch for mooches. I've learned my lesson.
An artist we spent many nights and days trying to help spit in our faces and moved away making us look like jackasses to friends whom we had enlisted to help him. We should have read the signs he was going to wimp out on us; we'd have to repeat common sense advice to him over and over. In retrospect we should have given him advice once and walked away from the situation. I doubt that I'll make the same mistake in this lifetime.
If my OWN SISTER was broke and had no where to stay I wouldn't move her in with us. Why?? because whenever we've taken someone into our home in the past we wound up enemies with them. Two different bandmates in 1980 alone wound up enemies of ours after we were charitable. A guy we rented a room to in 1986 (to "help him out") went from being a great friend who was fun to be with to a sour prickface in about one month. If we hadn't tried to be do-gooders and help him out he might still be a friend.
And as for homeless beggers on the Street..HAH!! In Philly the same haggard looking losers worked the same spots for YEARS on end. Without a doubt most of them had apartments. How many people daily gave them money to "help" them??? HAH!! They didn't want "help" they wanted free money so they didn't have to work. Of course they had to pretend to be "needy" and "cold" rather than be up front about it or else few do gooders whould give them money. As a result of the world changing sympathetic fucks you couldn't go NEAR a convenience store in center city Philly without running a gauntlet of professional scam artist beggers.
The person who has ruined my weekend isn't a homeless begger or an acquantance mooching meals. It was the lady we bought our new house from. You'd think that since she's been paid way in the hell over $100,000 for her home that she'd be in clover, eh??
Her "problem" is her inability to figure out a way to move her stuff out of what has been OUR HOUSE since 5:00 Central time last Friday.
When we were told a day ahead of closing the deal she still hadn't moved her shit..we were told she's recently divorced and bankrupt.
That's awfully sad isn't it??
On Friday a few minutes before signing the papers we drove by the place with our real estate agent. The house was cluttered with tons of stuff that was supposed to have been moved.
But we succumbed to feelings of generosity and granted her a couple more hours; we agreed to sign the papers anyway since our agent, her agent and the escrow agent seemed to feel she was just a poor divorcee doing her best.
Yeah...we got SUCKERED..ASSFUCKED without the aid of lubricant.
At 5:00 pm our money entered her bank account..and the house became ours. The agents earned their commisions and waved goodbye.
We drove by the house at 7:00...8:00...9:00 O'clock that night and no progress appeared to have been made since before we signed the papers.
At that point in retrospect we should've gotten tough and pitched a bitch.
Instead Marla and I talked each other into charitable moods. "Let's give her a break...it wasn't so long ago that WE had to move out of a house under a deadline".
Saturday about 1:00 pm the 3 of us drove over to begin cleaning our new home...the best house we've ever owned by far; shall we call it "Rulebreakers Roost" ?? we wondered outloud happy that we were finally able to move into our dream home.
So what happened?? We walked into the house and found stuff strewn around every room in piles. Some of it was valuable..some of it was smelly and undesirable. A search of the garage and the two storage buildings finished off our happy moods..they were JAMMED with difficult to move crap.
We called our agent..who promised to try to get ahold of the SELLERS agent. We bought some camera film and went back to our smelly cluttered dump of a dream house. After snapping off some photos to use in case of litigation we scurried around back and forth from our apartment to the house wondering where in the hell the bitch was?? why wasn't she moving her shit??
For a while we speculated on loading her computer and stereo and some other good stuff into our car trunk. Later we came around to realizing that in Philly that stuff would be OURS..but in small town Texas the real estate agents and the neighbors and anybody else over the age of 18 would hate us forever. It's a SMALL town and sooner or later we'd learn her boyfriend was a cop or her favorite Nephew a Judge.
We were told at one point that the lady was in a CLASS all Saturday and wouldn't be able to move that day.
WHAT THE FUCK?!?!? If she had known she needed extra time to move she needed to arrange for it at the closing and paper signing. We would've gladly rented the joint back to her for a few days. But NNOOOOOOO!!!!!!!! We had been persuaded she'd work hard to move her stuff out and signed the papers; after she had our money she lost interest in moving her stuff. Probably she took her kids to fucking Chucky Cheese. I hope they all got diareah. We cut her slack and were FUCKED as a result.
We were told at one point we had the right to move her stuff out of the house and storage areas to the front of the driveway..but that we needed to check with the law Monday as to whether we could keep her good stuff.
We decided to install a deadbolt on the front door out of fear that the lady might trash our house or that one of her brood might slip on a banana peel and attempt to sue US. We realized that by installing a new lock we were making her come to US if she wanted to get her valuable stuff. Marla called the ladies agent and intimated we were going to hold her valuable stuff hostage to ensure she'd haul her CRAP out. The lady wounding up calling Marla up and sobbing and bitching that everybody was "out to get her"...BLAH BLAH BLAH.
"So you're holding my stuff hostage??" she asked..obviously pissed
"Well..we just want it MOVED" Marla replied. She told the lady that once the storage sheds and garage were cleared we'd let her into the actual house.
After Marla hung up the phone..I thought it over for a minute..and in spite of the fact that we gave this helpless broad an INCH and she took a MILE..I suggested that she call back and tell her we'd leave the house latched so that she could get into a certain door. WHY??? Because I became certain that since this lady is a Texan she wasn't going to take what she perceived as a THREAT lying down. I was sure she'd find a way in and trash the house. Besides, I didn't want to have to sit in a hot stuffy dreamhouse without plumbing or electricity and watch this helpless divorcee whose life is going down the tubes struggle with her piles of crap.
It's now Sunday..time to go see if she got her stuff out. Will she be appreciative of the fact that we have given her yet ONE MORE chance???
Will I be cursing my charitable nature once more an hour from now???
Marla has shifted the huge archive of this diary into chunks making the most recent entries easier to load. If you find that it takes a long time to load up a hunk of my rambling do what I would do; don't sweat it...just go to the kitchen and poor 5 or 6 ounces of whiskey over a handful of ice cubes..squirt a dah of water into it. RELAX!!! Crack open a beer and before you know it your computer will have loaded it. Go take a shit if you prefer.
I got to thinking today about folks who force their kids who are lefthanded by nature to use their right hand instead. How can parents be so damned sadistic with their own kids?? Of course I'm sure most of them think they're acting in the best interests of their little cherubs when they pull shit like that. Sort of like parents in Japan (or China?) wrapping their daughters feet tight as hell so they don't grow. I had a lot of music classes when I was kid and I always wondered why so many of the kids in the school band were FORCED by their loving parents to play flute or trumpet or maybe a goddamned tuba. Kids that didn't want to play a musical instrument had a terrible time making public fools of themselves. The band director had no choice but to single out the worst players when their ineptitude was disrupting the band. He'd stand in front of some poor sap waving his baton and make them play their part alone while the other kids who had a knack for music muffled their laughter.
Then there were the unlucky few who were forced to play some old instrument that was lying around their house just because IT WAS THERE..like maybe a baritone that had been purchased for an older sibling.
Having watched Elvis play little league baseball for over 10 years I can attest to the fact that a majority of kids up to the age of 14 or so that play little league do so to PLEASE THEIR PARENTS.
When I was 18 and trying to decide what college to go to and what I wanted to study I compared notes on a daily basis with a "friend" (he later turned frat boy on me and stabbed me in the back...he's "thanked" in the liner notes of RANCID VAT JUSTICE..THIS IS WHAT WE DO TO TRAITORS") who was being "counseled" by his Father and his Uncles to study accounting even though he had no interest in a career as a friggin' CPA. I'd ask him WHHYYYYYYY in the hell he was even considering it....if he'd rather study something else; he was 18 years old..a fucking ADULT in my world..but a little PUSSY without a voice in the eyes of his family.
Eventually it hit me....OOOHHHHH!!!!!!! He HAD to listen to them and study whatever they wanted him to study because they were paying for his education.
I think he should've told them to fuck off..and taken out a student loan. I bet if he had he wouldn't have turned traitor.
Jello took me along on a trip to an Orange county suburb once when he was scheduled to interview a 19 year old who was prepared to blow the whistle on his "loving" parents who a couple years earlier had spent several thousand dollars having him kidnapped and dragged from his bed in the middle of the night to a small airplane on a desolate landing strip at a private airport. Destination?? Rural Utah....(WOW!) a private institution that specialzed in straightening out boys who were perceived as "troublesome". When the poor guy woke up for the first time in his new "home" he heard screams in the other end of the dorm room; some of the older fellows were having a buttstack with a terrified younger kid. GEE MOM AND DAD....THANKS for loving me so much.
Most parents are SO FUCKING AWFUL that over the years I've had to admit that even though my childhood was sheer fucking hell..my parents weren't the worst around..they really were only average. I got welts from Dad's belt..but not black eyes or broken bones. They were religious nuts who screwed my life up..but at least they weren't Jehovah's Witnesses or Mormon's. At least they weren't molesting me..or selling naked pictures of me to perverts.
Of all the rotten things that people do in their lives..their crappy romantic relationships...their unoriginality and intentional stupidity..their devotion to baseless popular religions....their tendancy to flock together rather than exhibit individual charachteristics...perhaps the most DISGUSTING thing about a large percentage of the masses is the shitty way they raise their damn kids.
Quite a few people I know have recently had children and several more are expecting a child or planning on becoming parents in the near future.
I hope they realize that they don't HAVE to be bad parents..yunno..blindly raise their kids the way THEY were raised. THAT's SOooo IGNORANT. If you hated being sent to Catholic school..why should you send your kid to one?? If you didn't like your old man taking his belt to you..why don't you look for another way?? It can be done you know..we NEVER spanked Elvis and he's almost PERFECT in our eyes.
Why not ask your child whether or not he or she wants to be a girl scout or play drums or study to become a professional bongo-drum player??
And for fucks sake...don't even HAVE children if you'd consider sending them off to be brainwashed by conservative Christians at some "loving" "caring" prison for teens.
Hell..I need a goddamned beer.
I hardly have time to even wedge a short little entry into this journal. Ebay has attempted to fuck me over again; they electronically cancelled all 145 of my auctions (including my entire Ebay store) because I accidently had the word "fuck" buried in the description of an item. I have the store half up again after slaving away yesterday.
I'm reminded of the people who think because I don't report to a boss in a suit that I'm unemployed and have lots of leisure time. Well, my boss is MRS. IRWIN..and I work 60-70 hours per week some times. OK???
I managed to contact Iain Levison the guy I referred to a couple weeks back in these hallowed pages. He wrote a book based on his awful job experiences that dovetails nicely with mine. At that time I plugged the wrong title..it's:
"the working stiff's manifesto"
I rarely ever plug anything here....much less twice..but if I need to I'll plug it THREE damn times..OK?? His book deserves it. Go to Borders and read my handy review of Iain's book wherein I criticize stuffed-shirt book critics (if they haven't censored IT TOO).
Of course I never attend "workshops" for writers or really even yakk with any. I only know a few...Jim Goad..Adam Parfrey..and Rivethead via email. I'm mostly a lone wolf..AWWHWWHOOOOOOOO!!!!!!
One of the reasons I just had to post this entry was the clear and unmistakeable purging of WWE RAW last night of that old faker Chump Hogan. WWE was faced with the worst run of ratings in recent history thanks to the Chumpster wearing their strap!!! He was mentioned briefly once last night..when Undertaker gloated he had retired his lame ass.
OK FELLOW WRESTLING FANS. It's SAFE to turn your TV'S back on. Chris Benoit made an appearance last night..and Eddie G. and RVD had a sensational ladder match. Did anybody see the fan run in and tip over the damned ladder??? Holy shit! I fucking HATE assholes who interfere with wrestling matches or sporting events. Unless they're rushing the ring to spread a huge RANCID VAT banner I guess.
Speaking of the Vat we've been quietly working and writing a few new songs and we're not only ready to perform live (in San Antonion on 6/28) we're almost ready to record a few songs. We're proud as hell of our new recruits. I'm saving the crowing about it all until it happens..and I'm gonna crow good and fucking LOUD when it does. After our first gig live we'll be splashing the pages of our website with photos of the new members and providing some new T-shirts (finally) for the "people" to invest in.
I've got to go take a crap. Luckily it won't be as bad as some of the bowel movements I suffered through for a while when I was buying huge plastic jars of Planters Peanuts. I felt like I was shitting cherry bombs! DAMN! When did peanuts get added to the list of foods to avoid if you want to have an anal-pain free day??