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Archive: 01-03-03 to 03-01-03

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3/01/03

I've said it before and I'll say it again: a simple way you can tell whether or not you're a conservative or liberal is by reading this diary. If you come aware cussing what a reactionary right winger I am (concerning the pending war for instance) YOU are a liberal. If instead you choose to take umbrage at my repeated heathen stances (concerning religion for instance) that means YOU are a conservative.

Very, VERY few people are exceptions to this rule.

The way I feel about it is of course I don't fit into EITHER category. Obviously that is an unacceptable stance for scores of millions of Americans who have been brainwashed since childhood to believe that you are either in one camp or the other. They're not used to examining very closely what someone says when they express an opinion in anything other than the most familiar terms. They sure as hell get confused and upset at the notion of people not going along with one of the two alotted mass opinon groups. Rightie Rush Limbaugh leads the charge when it comes to criticizing people who declare themselves as "centrists" or "undecided". He pisses and moans about how they have no backbone to get on one side of the fence or the other. What he's really afraid of is the possibility that a 3rd or 4th opinion group might upset the neat little 2 party system. Lefties are equally scared shitless of new parties or movements. When faced with the occasional strong 3rd party candidate they circle the wagons with their traditional enemies the righties and do all they can to formally ignore the outsider. A case history of this sort of tactic may be found in Jesse Ventura's autobiography.

In spite of the fact that I occasionally side with the primary view from one party or the other on a certain issue, let their be no mistakinging my opinion that Both sides or parties are full of shit..and their assholes were stitched shut long ago. They're beyond repair. A lot of "outsiders" are of the opinion that the two parties are incredibly alike. It's hard to argue with that in the case of the senates angry 99-0 vote to protest the court ruling against the phrase "one nation under god" in our pledge of allegiance.

What that vote means to me..is that as an agnostic I HAVE no intelligent like minded representation in our nations senate. Oh well...it's nothing I didn't realize a LONG time ago.

I haven't chanted the pledge of allegiance publicly since I was about 9 years old BECAUSE of that phrase. When I'm at a ball game I either sit in a big empty bleacher section to avoid "scenes" during the religion = politics indoctrination-chant..or if I'm in a froggy mood I might just sit in the middle of a crowd with a big scowl on my face..WAITING for some patriot do-gooder to start shit.

If there are any lefties out there who are still reading this diary, don't worry..I'm not a Bush loyalist or evil "fascist". I wince when I hear him refer to god being behind our nation. His "good" = Christianity "bad" = everybody else hokum makes me gag. When this trouble with the conservative muslim dickheads of the world is finally over I'll be on the job pointing out the blatant stupidty behind Bush's agenda. Meanwhile, lets be glad we have a HAWK in the white house with the war drums beating. We don't need a limp-wrist pacifist or appeaser..we need somebody ready and willing to go toe to toe with religious assholes from OTHER nations.

2/24/03

I've gloated about the beautiful warm Texas climate here many times in the past; as of this moment though..I'm freezing my goddamned balls off. What the hell?? It was 80 fucking degrees the other day??

But now we're in the middle of a fluke ice storm. It's 29 degrees outside and 50 degrees indoors (and falling fast) since our goddamned furnace is on the blink. So, for another day or so I have to live in a climate folks not lucky enough to live in South Texas experience 6 months out of the year.

I've been meaning to jot down a few comments about another "bad" aspect to living here in this damned house..and I guess this is as good a time as any.

I came to the realization there was a problem about a week ago. I was sitting here at this computer which overlooks our driveway. From this chair I can see anybody approaching our house which is fenced off heavily from all other directions. Out of the corner of my eye I saw somebody walking up our driveway. Now THATS unusual. I slipped on my glasses for a closer look and saw an amiable looking guy with alot of facial and head hair and a backpack walking straight towards the door.

SHIT! Of course I fucking FORBID anybody to drop in on me..ESPECIALLY people I know. Yunno....I work and write weird hours and sleep during most of the day. A knock on the door at the wrong moment can screw up my sleep pattern for days. Besides, I wasn't raised to deal with people dropping in. Drop in on me..even in your friendliest mood and carrying a case of beer...and I will likely HATE you from that moment on.

So who in the hell was this guy marching up my driveway with a goofy grin on his damned mugg?? Was this a "Whiskey Rebel-Roo" whom had somehow figured out where I lived?? I calculated that he could indeed be some guy traveling the world who read "jobjumper" or a bunch of my columns. That at least would answer the question why he looked so happy and proud..almost eager to get to the front door. What the hell...I could have disappeared into the bowells of the house to take a shit; but there was a chance this guy was a missionary or solicitor. If so, I was gonna give him a MEMORABLE cussing out and probably slam the door so hard in his whiskered face the cement porch would shake.

He gazed with a big smile through the window at me sitting at my computer a moment before knocking. I got up and answered the door. This was the moment of truth. In the back of my mind I thought....hhmm. Maybe if the guy wasn't too big a freak I could sell him some CD'S or records (Yep..I'm ALWAYS thinking about that!). Maybe he's an overseas traveler with a lot of dough I speculated??

I opened the door..and awaited his explanation..

"Uhh...hi man; my frisbee flew over your fence! Can I go get it?"..he grinned happily.

THAT'S when I remembered the goddamned "frisbee golf course" across our street. Yep..that's right. A "frisbee" golf course. The State university (they own half the damned city!) across the street has taken a perfectly good uninhabitable hill and converted it into a series of weird looking metallic targets spaced 50 yards or so apart so that their students can emulate the goddamned smelly hippies from the 60's who popularized frisbee's.

I was too young to be part of the hippie generation, but I grew up in their shadow. That meant when I wanted to buy good punkrock or rockabilly records in the early-mid 70's I had to patronize HIPPIE record shops. That meant that when we founded Rancid Vat we had to play at "HIPPIE" bars and clubs until other anti-hippie clubs came along.

I was taken to a big rock festival when I was 10 or so by an Aunt. I WASN'T impressed. I thought the hippies looked like mindless, filthy pigs. I knew even at that age what a crock of shit their half baked ideals and politics were. I considered them every bit as hypocritical as the parents and Christians and squares they existed to put down.

I've always thought throughout the course of my life that the only type of person sillier than a damned hippie..was a young "wannabe" hippie 5-10-20-30-35 years later trying to embrace it as some sort of fashionable "alternative lifestyle".

Obviously the clown knocking on MY door uninvited was some sort of goofball trying to live out some sort of "Haight-Ashbury revisted" trip.

I shook my head in disgust..and gave him permission to walk into our backyard to get his stinking smelly hippie toy.

I'm gonna have to think up some sort of cruel way to take out my aggressions on the latter day neo-hippies who will undoubtedly be coming out in groups to throw frisbees at hunks of metal (I wish the losers would take up throwing horseshoes at each others heads!!). HHmmm.....

Hey...a happy ending to the cold temperature in our house; I just figured out that my beer doesn't get warm when it's freezing in here!

2/22/03

The afternoon leading up to the night of Paychecks death I was sure as hell I was going to really tie one on in his memory before sleeping. Oddly enough, even though I drank alot of beers and a few shots I found myself holding back from playing records of his that would undoubtedly drag me to the inevitable emotional realization that he's gone..gone for good. We'll never see the likes of him again.

I woke up the next morning and right off felt like I hadn't worked his death out of my system. I vowed to get the job done that night.

I did.

But before I go into that I want to point out the fact that I'm very damned aware (thanks to several emails) that this diary has become along with whatever else the hell it is a place where a handful of like minded people with a certain mindset and appreciation for what I consider the finer things in life (booze..pro-wrestling..music..old TV..etc.) can at least read one heartfelt and honorable goodbye whenever one of the greats dies whether the media presiding over the current contemporary pop culture considers the individual worth lamenting or not.

I never set out to create a continous obituary service here; it's just come about because the last couple years have been really bad ones for deaths of people I admire.

I'm not very optimistic about the world replacing the great people whom I admire as fast as they seem to be passing away. I have a hunch (although I can't back it up with any logical reasoning) that I am wrong..and that there are new young talented wrestlers, musicians, writers, legendary drunks, etc. in motion ready to fill the shoes of the elders. I hope so. I sure as hell am not going to fall into the trap of believing that the only great people worth a damn are the ones I've seen in my lifetime. That sounds too much like 80 year old guys pissing and moaning that the baseball pitchers of the 1930's were so much better than todays guys; yeah, yeah...how about Randy Johnson and Roger Clemens old timer??

One of my favorite websites is "Kayfabe memoires" which features the most impressive collection of stories told by retired wrestlers of bygone era's on the internet. I love reading what they have to say for the most part..but I cringe just a bit when the old coots feel like they have to blindly boost the guys from their time as being vaguely superior in ways they can't explain. Yeah, it's natural I guess. I'm not gonna fall into that trap though.

I understand why they take it extra hard when somebody from their own generation dies..but I think its chickenshit and wrong to willfully curse the WORTHY ones from younger generations out of plain miserable geriatric spite.

Anyway, on the second night of Paycheck's death I drank casually biding my time while Marla and then Elvis hit the rack. I listened to albums I'm reviewing for my country music book for a couple hours waiting for them to get good and permanently asleep for the night.

I brought out a fifth of Jim Beam and popped on the last 4 songs of his live in NYC album. After he sang the line in "11 months and 29 days" about keeping "the dance floor hot and the Lone Star cold when I'm gone"..I shook my head at how he seemed to be communicating with me in my silly sentimental state from beyond the grave. I banged back a couple shots from a George Jones shotglass (hey..they were buddies..and I don't have a Johnny Paycheck shotglass). Next I got out the CD of his 60's "Lil Darlin" label material and switched the lights out and focused on every damn one of the 24 songs. I don't know how many damn shots I tossed back..I don't count drinks. Only frat boys and Madd Mother bitches do. I drank as many as I NEEDED..and washed them down with a specially acquired 12 pack of PEARL.

When I woke the next afternoon I felt a bit of a hangover as usual. I also felt like I had finally given him a send off in the manner that I would want to be remembered. Some people scrawl messages using soap on their car windows to express their feelings about someone who has died. Other people buy space in the classified section of their local paper to state that they will never forget. If that is your way..more power to you. But, neither of those ways make any sense to me personally. I'm not into big public displays. I quietly knock back a few shots and try to reflect on the life of the person I'm mourning. I think the Irish really handle deaths the best way; they celebrate the life of the departed one. That's what makes the most sense to me. I'm not into expressing my sense of loss by cutting my clothes to ribbons or tearing my hair out in chunks.

And, I'm into writing a few words here sometimes when someone I admire passes away. If it seems like alot of wrestlers are dying left and right the last couple years, may I remind you that these days we hear about it within 6 hours of their passing thanks to the internet wrestling sites. I didn't hear about guys like Adrian Adonis dying until years later in the pre-internet age.

2/19/03

R.I.P. JOHNNY PAYCHECK.

I just heard the bad news on the radio...Johnny Paycheck died today at age 64. He'd been confined to a bed in a nursing home for awhile..which means he obviously died slowly in bed.

The one obituary I read on-line mostly made a big deal about what a wildman he was and all his failings in life. Musically speaking they mentioned the song he's best known for of course "take this job and shove it".

That was a fine song and definetly amongst his best..but it was only a single milestone in a long, long career absolutely loaded with quality music that doesn't get mentioned very often.

If you don't care about country music at all you may as well stop reading right here..I'm a man on a mission today..and that mission is to educate those who are interested in country music about some of the great lesser known albums by Johnny Paycheck.

First off I have to point out that I consider Johnny Paycheck to be incredibly under rated talent wise even by serious fans of country music. There's a good reason for this: in the 1960's when he recorded a great deal of his absolute best work he recorded for a small label "lil Darlin'" ran by a fellow named Aubrey Mayhew. I think there was probably bad blood between the two of them and as a result even though this incredible phase of his recording career was so great..it's been swept under the rug.

A CD "the real Mr. Heartache" was issued in 1996 featuring 24 tracks from Johnny's Lil' Darlin' years and I remember that even the smart ass mainstream music critics were bending over backwards pointing out how hardcore his take on country music was back then. Most of the songs are booze soaked depictions of shattered relationships and the resulting twisted states of mind humans can find themselves in. Many of these songs were just flat out too grim for radio airplay..although it's the extreme nature of the songs that appeals to me and alot of other Paycheck fans. These "lil Darlin'" recordings rank right up there with Hank Sr.'s best in my book. Some of my personal favorites are "if I'm gonna sink I may as well go to the bottom" "motel time again" "pardon me I've got someone to kill" and "it's a mighty thin line between love and hate". If you're a country music fan or just a fan of Cash and Coe..this CD is essential. It's definetly one of the best 5 or so CD's on my rack in any genre.

Since I'm smack dab in the middle of a lengthy country music album review book I'm well prepared to send you in the right direction towards some other Paycheck albums you probably haven't ever heard that you need to find. Here's some unedited reviews in progress..I'm gonna paste them in and go get a fresh bottle at the liquor store. One thing's for sure..I'm gonna have quite a solitary one-man loving tribute musical blowout tonight to Paycheck.

"Johnny Paycheck "Armed & Crazy" 1978 LP (epic)

If you look under "outlaw country" in any one of the many country music encyclopedias published over the last 20 years you will see a picture of either Waylon and Willie or the record breaking outlaw compilation LP Waylon organized that became the biggest selling (at that time) country LP ever. As mighty as Waylon and Willie and Tompall's talents were during that time period it's plain in retrospect that two men "OUT OUTLAWED the OUTLAWS": Johnny Paycheck and David Allen Coe. Both fella's did a lot of time behind bars over the years and their song material has often reflected the hard lives they've led. Out of 70+ years of country singers popping pills like candy, guzzling whiskey by the gallon and making like rabbits with honky tonk cuties I'll hereby nominate D.A.C. and Paycheck as the SUPREME OUTLAWS of the entire country music tradition. NOT because they may have popped more or snorted more or screwed more or drank more..but because their MUSIC HAS REFLECTED their wild wicked ways so well.

"ARMED and CRAZY" goes miles beyond merely challenging the record companys authority "good naturedly". The dangerous statements made on this LP are a far cry past subtle pot smoking references. Paycheck challenges the most dangerous branch of our government with "me and the I.R.S.". HOLY SHIT! The title song opens with a blistering rock riff that leads into a frantic tale about robbing a grocery store "disguised as a little old lady". "Thanks to the cat house I'm in the dog house with you" is an unrepentant jolly tune about the results of a trip to the local whorehouse. "Mainline" isn't a typical discreet cheatin' song..it's written from the point of view of an absolute human WEASEL boasting and gloating over how little money or commitment he has to make to his relationship compared to the "mainline" whose Wife he's diddling. And then there's the album ending "Outlaws prayer" which is a spoken word retort to holyier than thou church folk. Johnny's reading of it is flawless and moving. All in all this album seems as feisty and pissed off as the punk rock bands who were also having a banner year in 1978."

JOHNNY PAYCHECK "bars-booze-blondes" vinyl LP little darlin' label

"The album title is well chosen and doesn't beat around the bush. These brilliant songs are almost all from the great Paycheck + Mayhew partnership. Johnny may have had greater temporary commercial success later in his career but it's his "Little Darlin'" label material that will stand for the ages with the best honky tonk music ever recorded. These songs examine in frightening depth the lustful, despondent and often desperate denizens of local bars across the USA. THIS album is MORE American than apple pie. "The pint of no return" "we're the kind of people" and "I drop more than I drink" are masterpieces of interpretation of the unmitigated human condition; in other words they show just how LOW people can GO. "Two candles one dinner and a bottle" is a thoughtful variation from the main theme.It's written from the perspective of a would-be cheater whose conscience sends him home at the last minute. "Meanest jukebox in town" and "haven for angel's unaware" are both chock full of bar room wisdom that egghead sociologists can look back to a hundred years from now for a realistic look at what went on in the tavern's and lounges of the late 20th century."

JOHNNY PAYCHECK "New York Town" vinyl LP 1980

"Just for the record, in spite of what Buck Owens anti-"big apple" song may have you thinking..NYC has a damned enthusiastic country music audience. Now, fanny kickin' live outlaw country albums require table thumpin' audiences ready to help the band light the commodes ablaze. Enjoying the success of his "shove it" phase, Paycheck could've recorded his live album anywhere; but, he chose the Lone Star Cafe in NYC (take that Buck). The result is a frenzied set that must've left the anything BUT jaded big city folks swinging from the nearest neon "HAMMS" sign. This is one of the best live albums I've heard from any genre of music. It's not just a token run through of hits..you could find yourself playing this album INSTEAD of Paycheck's always top notch studio albums. The last 80% of side two consists of a live run of songs I've qued up over and over and over again both for house guests AND for my own personal enjoyment while getting tanked up in the middle of the night. It begins with "11 months and 29 days" which includes a blistering wailing tenor sax solo by Big Murph..one of Paycheck's top hands. Without let up the band rolls into "stay away from the cocaine train" and right into the notorious anthem "me and the I.R.S." The closer is of course "take this job and shove it" played and sung rowdy as hell.

Side one ain't half bad either..but that final run of songs on side two is AMAZING. I'd pay a pretty penny to see a video of this show..I'd french kiss a pitt bull's bung hole..I'd quit drinking for a week..er, well...let's not be hasty. I gotta draw the line SOMEWHERE; but you get the idea."

JOHNNY PAYCHECK "jukebox Charlie" vinyl LP 'Lil Darlin'

"The pairing of Johnny Paycheck and label magnate Aubrey Mayhew produced as much great music as almost any other singer/producer combo you can name. This album is jam packed with songs so potent they must've made a lot of listeners used to innocuos George Morgan type ballads cringe. The musicians used include the amazing Lloyd Green whose steel guitar is the perfect axe to compliment Johnny's bitter and sometimes spine tingling vocals. Yeah, yeah, alot of honky tonk singers can deliver an adultery song that brings folks almost to tears; Johnny Paycheck goes beyond most of them and scares the shit out of 'em!! These are songs steeped in the realistic miseries of chronic alcoholism. 20 years before Johnny's old employer and drinking pal George Jones sang about "still doing time" Johnny with Aubrey's assistance was cranking out entire albums like this one that are right up there with ol' possums best work. "Down at Kelley's" is a classic tale of marital malfunction. When I hear "Motel time again" I think of Johnny in real life staggering around confused trying to figure out where to sleep it off. This version of "Apartment #9" is clearly more heartfelt than any other I've ever heard. The only song that's off kilter is the strange album closer "malinche" which seems to be about the explorer Cortez?? WHAT?? oh well..13 out of 14 ain't bad. By that point I had downed so many shots of Beam it didn't even matter. The song could've been about "Barney".

JOHNNY PAYCHECK "at Carnegie Hall" vinyl LP Little Darlin' 1966.

"No Virginia, this album WASN'T recorded at Carnegie hall. It's a studio representation of songs from his setlist when he played there. I believe this is Paycheck's FIRST of so many great full length LP'S to come. Each side starts with a popular classic..as if the strategy is to lure the listener to try both sides: "King of the road" and "Ballad of the Green Beret's". Both tunes are covered fine enough..but the REAL gems are the original numbers. The gritty "Bayou bum" not only follows "King of the road"...it chews it up and spits it out. It's a HELLUVA better song. "He's in a hurry (to get home to my Wife)" in which Johnny sings the part of a jealous fellow who got dumped for screwing up JUST ONCE..is deadpanned perfectly by Johnny and points the way for his future direction. The prison break tune "Ballad of Frisco bay" is morbid and ugly..I LOVE IT!! "Big town baby" is topnotch honkytonk work and proof to me Johnny had nothing to do with the "aw shucks" liner notes Aubrey Mayhew undoubtedly wrote and signed his name to. For a first LP the lines are sung in such a seasoned, cool manner....Proof Paycheck was GREAT from the very start. This album DEFINETLY stacks up to his former boss George Jones LP's from this same period. "

GOODBYE JOHNNY PAYCHECK..you were the best at what you did..and you won't be forgotten around this house.

2/17/03

Joke of the day...Q: Why did Euro-Disney have to cancel their traditional nightly fireworks display? A: because the French were all instantly raising their hands in surrender.

Assinine anti-war concept of the day; the notion expressed by many a do-gooder with a TV camera in their face these days that they are "concerned about the Iraqi people". If you are one of the lying airheads walking around saying this like you mean it..I say to you..BULLSHIT. HOGWASH.

I can accept many arguments against the U.S. persuing a unilateral war at this moment in time as having enough merit to discuss..but NOT that one.

NO WAY.

Unless of course you have family members living in Iraq or an irregularly large number of friends by coincidence in Iraq..you don't give a shit about the people in Iraq.

What's that?? I sense that someone reading this is frowning and shaking their head thinking.."C'mon Whiskey Rebel..that's not FAIR! I DO care about the people of Iraq!".

If this is you..POP QUIZ: name me 10 Iraqi's who you love??

Couldn't do it, eh??

When I was a kid I was forced to attend Sunday school until I was 14..so I'm damn well aware of the fact that Christians are indoctrinated to blindly loving EVERYBODY..even those who want all Christians dead..or who applaud terrorists who blow up skyscrapers in Christian nations. Christians are supposed to even love Saddam Hussein and Osama Bin Laden.

If you are actually enough of a devout Christian to pray for Bin Laden and Hussein and Idi Amin's soul and that of Hitler and Ted Bundy..then OK; I'll grant that you are an exception to the rule..that you actually are SINCERE when you say you're concerned about the Iraqi people.

The rest of you are fucking PHONIES. What's that?? I sense that somebody reading this who ISN'T a devout "caring" Christian (or Jew or Mormon, etc.) isn't quite ready to wake up and smell the coffee and admit that you DON'T give a damn about the Iraqi people when it comes right down to it.

OK. Name 10 things...no that's too difficult. Name just 3 things you have done to show your love for the Iraqi people in any sort of concrete way.

You CAN'T of course. You just like to flap your gums using all the phoney "feel-good" dialogue you hear celebrities spouting on TV. You most likely don't even know one goddamned person from Iraq.

Career politcians know that they can play the "love card" publicly without fear of anyone from the mainstream media calling them on it..because the media folk love to spout the same line of bullcrap.

I read over the weekend internet reports of dissension in the ranks of the folks organizing protests in various places (San Francisco comes to mind as one). If you've participated over the weekend in a protest you may be quite surprised to know the core beliefs of some of the snakes in the grass that are organizing these "feel-good" humanitarian events.

Ask around about YOUR protest group organizers position on Israel. Word is leaking out that one of the primary professional protest groups is so anti-Israel that they cancelled out the speech of a liberal Jewish leader who has criticized them in the past.

Israel is one of the few loyal allies that the U.S. has whom we can count on to KICK ASS when the scuds start flying.

I admire Israel's military legacy as a fan of military history in the same way I admire Grant, Lee and Patton.

What's more..thee Whiskey Rebel has lots of Jewish friends. There are good solid logical reasons for me standing up for them, too. I've NEVER had a Jewish friend try to preach religion to me. They generally mind their own fucking business when it comes to criticizing other peoples right to have fun (with the exception of that prude freak who was Gore's running mate). Even Rabbi's enoy the option of many worldly pleasures all those Catholic priests and evangelical preachers have to sneak around to enjoy.

All you phonies claiming love and concern for the Iraqi people..answer me this?? Do you love my Jewish friends?? How about the people of the nation of Israel??

I'll answer for you..OF COURSE NOT..until you hear some attention seeking jackass celebrities on TV talking about their deep concern and love for the people of Israel.

2/13/03

ROMANCE can KISS MY ASS!!

I watched the "Blind date" marathon on cable TV tonight for several hours. I know I wrote about this crucial show a while ago but I just have to point out one more time how ridiculous humanoids engaged in the dating ritual look. Out of 10 episodes or so I watched a full half of the participants were "blind" in a way not meant to be suggested by the shows title. They were "blind" in that they seemed totally oblivious to how they came across to the stranger they were dating, the shows writers who design jokes at the expense of the fools sent on dates and of course to we millions and millions of viewers.

Several episodes were concluded by some poor lady pointing out the obvious to the cameras..that the guy she dated was a CONCEITED ASS. In EVERY CASE (not MOST cases mind you..in EVERY CASE) in which this was the result of the date the fellow was OBVIOUSLY an absolute asshole; AND in EVERY CASE the jackass male responded to the camera that the female recognized how HOT he was..but for some reason felt intimidated by his irresistable charms.

Not ONE fellow ever even questioned the obvious..that he's a self centered narcissist (sp?) who thinks his shit doesn't stink.

There were 4 episodes in which the date was miserable because the female was a total BITCH who simply couldn't be pleased. In every case when the female was asked to respond to this (and in every case it was INCREDIBLY OBVIOUS) she shrugged off the possibility of her being a bitch as being preposterous even though we in the audience watched her act like a blatant B.I.T.C.H. for 12 minutes.

I'm going to tread on wafer thin ice here while I tie this into my real life observations. As I run down the roster of female B.I.T.C.H.E.S. that are married to or are dating friends of mine I've got to point out that in only a few rare cases the BITCH seems to have any clue what a miserable piece of work she is.

Marla and I used to see a couple at parties (they were friends of friends..so DONT anybody that we actually know well take this personally) we occasionally attended in Philly that consisted of an amiable male who was always fun to yakk with and drink beer with and an abolute CUNT (C.U.N.T.) who would always sit in another room and sulk and look at her watch. I don't know why the fellow didn't leave her home..it wasn't my place to ask. I barely knew these people. Incidentally, Marla agreed with me totally what a bitch this little princess was.

Back to guys for a minute. I've totally lost count of guys I've known over the years who I've seen in action in bars or at parties using incredibly lame loser pickup lines week after week year after year. These dorks always consider themselves such smooth talkers and so sexually appealing. The talk that goes on behind the backs of these Barney Fife like Romeo's is cruel..and well deserved I'm afraid. GUYS....you should stop for a minute and consider whether this is you.

ALL Women are bitches from time to time..it's part of being a Woman. Likewise, ALL men are self centered jackasses sometimes too. My Wife and I (we've been married 25 years) both realize this..or else the damned marriage would never have lasted this long.

GUYS..why can't a few of you wake up and smell the coffee and realize what a fucking SAP you are??

LADIES..why can't more than a tiny handfull of you realize what BITCHES you all are now and then??

Why are you all so unaware of what fools and shrews you are??

Having said that, let me say that I don't really GIVE A DAMN. I gave up on the rotten human species (which rhymes best with feces) long ago. If you refuse to wise up..blow it out your fucking ass.

2/1103

It's time to change your wrestling TV viewing habits once again. Whereas Monday night RAW was the premier TV wrestling show for many years..with the split of the roster into two factions and the retirement of Mankind a couple years ago and the old "WCW "nwo" clowns being brought out of mothballs and Steve Austin subsequently quitting RAW has become the "HHH" show. As you've read here several times over the last few months SMACKDOWN on Thursday nights has become a better show with topnotch frigging matches.

Unfortunately, Smackdown has been re-invaded by the one guy who turned me away from the WWF in the 1980's..Chump Hogan. Luckily, Stonecold Steve Austin has resolved his legal problems and has made up with the company and will be returning immediately. For those of you who don't regularly read the wrestling websites that are worthy (wrestling observor's site and 1wrestling.com are the ones I check daily) Austin actually came out at the end of Monday nights show after the TV show had ended.

DAMN I'm glad to see him back. Yeah, there are several guys who use more technical moves in the ring...but that's not his style. Austins timing is impeccable..and he creates a certain ELECTRICITY out there on a nightly basis that few guys in WWE can summon up at all much less sustain.

It works out pretty well that Chumpster will be fueding with the Rock for the time being..I'd hate to see Angle or Brock wasted on him. Some folks say the Rock is like a modern day Hogan ( in a detrimental sense). I think it's obvious he's a much superior wrestler who is chained to a few catch phrases.

I've never been a Sting or Goldberg fan, but I think this is the time to bring them into the WWE. Why not?? every other top name is there. I think it's the right time for folks to see Austin vs. Goldberg and Sting vs. Michaels or what have you.

Wouldn't this be a great time for Bill Alphonso (sp?) to be brought in as general manager of RAW with his strongarm ass kickers being Rhyno and Sabu??

I was of course sad to hear about the death of Kurt Hennig. I go Waaayy back with him having seen him on TV in Portland every week for a couple years at the beginning of the 1980's. He was relatively green back then..a curly haired babyface without the physique and attitude he became known for. it seemed like it took him several years to really put it all together. Still, it was fun watching him get the snot stomped out of him by the Playboy and the Prince (Buddy Rose and Ed Wiskowski for you moron's out there).

When Elvis was little he had a Road Warriors VHS tape that was about 20 minutes long. The first of two matches was Kurt and his Dad Larry "the axe" Henning attempting to take on the legion of doom in the AWA. Hawk and the Animal slapped Hennig around like a ragdoll for most of the match. Eventually he got hungup by the neck between the top two ropes and wound up shedding a few pints of blood before being set free. The fans HATED the Road Warriors at that point in their career. The camera follows them making their way to the dressing room after practically killing Henning...the fans actually were swinging chairs at them the whole way!! It was a near riot..and a fine influence on a 2 year old kid. He'd watch it 10 times per day.

Even though Elvis grew up a Road Warriors fan the truth of the matter is that Kurt Hennig had the toughest night at work THAT night and he did his job well.

A few years later when he took the big AWA strap from the incredibly great Nick Bockwinkel he rose to the occasion and pulled off some fantastic heel-hijinx with one of my favorite wrestlers of all time Larry Zbyzsko.

His "Mr. Perfect" gimmick in the WWF later down the road was great in retrospect for the WWF at that time..although much of his time there coincided with the years I refused to watch Vince's promotion even for 2 minutes.

I can vouch for the fact that when "Mr. Perfect" came to visit on business the Tower records store I worked at in Philly he was one of the nicer celeb's to do an instore. He requested and was granted a tour of the traditional country CD section. Unfortunately, this all happened on my day off.

Henning was one of the several alumni of Robbinsdale (sp?) High school in Minnesota that all made it big in pro wrestling: Nikita Koloff, John Nord (yunno..Nord the Barbarian) Tom Zenk and Kurt's close teenage pal Rick Rude to name just a few. If you want to see where Hennig and the boys all came from I suggest you look up Tom Zenks great website which was absolutely loaded with pictures and factoids the last time I checked.

Another great place to read all about his career in great detail would be the "Kayfabe memories" website which is beginning to shape up to be what to me is the best wrestling website found on the internet.

All together now..lets down a shot for Kurt Hennig; I'm hoisting a shotglass full to the brim with Ezra Brooks whiskey..down the HATCH!! We'll miss you man...thanks for many years of great entertainment.

** ** ** ** ** **

I'm reading a great book about the life and times of Jesse James these days. The title reveals the angle of the author's (T.J.Stiles) thesis quite well: "Jesse James Last rebel of the civiil war".

This book reads with a special kick in the light of all the international debate over the looming prospect of a war with Iraq. Jesse grew up during a time in Missouri history in which political diffences with your neighbors could and likely would lead to either them killing you or preferably you killing them before they got to you. If you were known to have sympathies one way or another on the issue of slavery (and EVERYBODY did) you risked being visited in the dark of night by a mob of bushwackers and having your entire family raped, maimed and killed and your house burned to the ground. JUST for having a different political view..WOW!! we have it pretty soft these days after all.

NOBODY was safe in the area he grew up in; not the richest or most powerfull folks even. Hell, they were the chief TARGETS. This didn't prevent folks from making their opinions known. People were prepared to die for their political views back then..although it seems to me that I'd be a pussy and pull up stakes and move faced with a fatal situation like that.

I repeat: we have it pretty soft these days after all. You can either back the President and favor giving ol' mohammed a black eye in Iraq (my position) or take the anti-war route (yunno..pretending to be concerned about Iraqui citizens) either way nobody's going to kick down your front door in the middle of the night and scalp your Wife and kids.

2/07/03

(Good evening folks; welcome to the latest installment of this diary designed to periodically answer the question: "how long can Whiskey Rebel last in a public place crammed with humanoids before storming out?".. the following is the Irwin family's latest adventure out of their home.)

Elvis and I went out to shoot pool last night at a local establishment that not only stocks a full bar and sells beer by the pitcher..they also admit 18-21 year olds. When you walk into this place it's liking walking through the gates of hell. DARK room..loud as fuck music..thick smoke..drunks screeching..tipsy college girls scantily clad.

That suits me overall..although I'd prefer a completely empty room I realize I'm not gonna get that. I was glad the place wan't brightly lit..and I was impressed that everybody in the room was sucking down good old CORPORATE beer instead of micro-spew.

We had to wait 15 minutes or so for one of the dozen tables since it was 10:00 pm on Saturday night. We stood and watched dozens of people shooting pool..almost all showing no signs of understanding the basics of the game. I squelched a desire to laugh when a rather obese drunk fell off his barstool nearby.

Of course, most of the time I won't wait even 5 minutes to do ANYTHING in public. I haven't waited in a line at a theatre since "the exorcist" premiered a jillion years ago. I REFUSE to wait at restaurants. I ask for my money back when fastfood geeks ask me to park my car and wait to have my food brought to me.

Elvis knows me and my ways; he must've been expecting me to snap and storm out at any moment.

I think what kept me in that tavern last night was the pervasive mood of SIN...unrepentant, glorius S-I-N!! It was in the air and I caught the mood of the mob for once.

Eventually we were granted a table in the very back of the room. THAT'S when things started going downhill. It took us about 10 minutes to realize we had been given the WORST fucking table I've experienced in years. The problems were many. One end of the table abutted the ends of two tables occupied by some of the most oblivious, STUPID pieces of Texas shit I've seen yet. We'd pause to let them make a shot..but when they were done they suddenly became oblivious to the fact we needed them to cooperate and move their fat asses out of the way so we could line up our shots. On the other end of our table was a mob surrounding a single table. There were 2 guys and about 6 of the most ignorant, beginner level pool hall bimbo's I've ever seen. Everytime one of the girls made a shot a huge chorus of ear piercing squeels would blow our eardrums out and destroy what was left of our ability to concentrate. "AAAAAGGGGGGGHHHHHHH!!!!!! "EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEHHHHHHH!!!!

I've shot pool in both dives and nice classy places from L.A. to Philly and half the states in between..and I'm here to tell you they would've been warned once and 86'd from almost all of those places.

For a fleeting second I felt as if I were back in Portland Oregon again; I began looking for the nearest wastebasket to heave into at the very thought.

The BIGGEST problem we experienced at that table was due to the fact that the mens room door opened practically smack dab into one side of our table. A steady stream of weak bladdered fools waddled back and forth. At one point a guy bumped me so hard when I was trying to make a shot that I turned to Elvis to point the bozo out..as I was doing this ANOTHER rube bumped me even harder.

So what did I do?? storm out??

I met with Elvis in a narrow little space and bitched for awhile; suddenly..for some reason I can't explain it all began to seem sort of funny. I actually began to study the dull faces of the jackasses wearing a rut in the carpeting back and forth from the mens room. I couldn't help but notice too that Elvis..the well balanced Libra..was getting really hot and bothered and steamed about the morons and screeching air headed sluts.

Imagine that..we were living out each others familiar roles. For one night only I was being calm and philosophical about a rapidly deteriorating public scene..and HE was being the flinthead.

Eventuallly we waited the crowd out and actually enjoyed 20 or 30 minutes or so of relatively enjoyable 8 ball.

Was it a fluke?? Or a sign of possible changes in the works??

Am I "mellowing"?? Fuuck.....I HOPE not. Have my hot headed ways rubbed off on Elvis?? Or was his behavior simply a sign of normal maturation??

Was Marla actually at home asleep?? or did she have some sort of role in this?? Stay tuned...

2/03/03

Last entry I described the swell time I had watching football again for the first time in years. Well, watching football isn't by any means the only activity I've dropped over the years. I specifically remember going to a mall a couple years ago as a sort of experiment that I knew would be fun to write about. I've written in the past in zine columns about why I no longer go to movie theaters. I've written about my bad experiences watching "super Dad" in action at Elvis's little league baseball games, about our bad experiences at Veterans stadium and the experience I had at a public thrift store with a geek who wanted to fight me because I used a swear word 20 feet away from his Daughter. I've written extensively about how miserable it is to attend large concerts.

When I DO have to go out to the post office and the grocery store and the liquor store I constantly am annoyed by the people around me. They walk around jabbering loudly with cellphones pressed to their ears..oblivious of how annoying they are. They let their kids run around public places screaming and squealing and running in and out of the path of people. When they do discipline the little bastards its always at an ear splitting volume in front of a crowd of people who'd rather not hear it. They walk around eating making disgusting sounds in the process. One of the most alarming aspects about how society has changed in my lifetime is the way it's become almost impossible to lead a normal solitary existance without dozens and dozens of daily unwanted intrusions even in our own homes. Our phone rings courtesy of telemarketing computers at least 10 times per day. Just checking my email is a nightmare; every week I have to clear out 400-500 unsolicted messages at an old email address of ours we still need to occasionally check. Pop-up add's are annoying enough..why must they always be totally and deliberately misleading/fraudulent??

I honestly admire people who have the balls to move out into the middle of nowhere and exist without a telephone, television or computer. Maybe someday I'll be able to do that..but not right now. I'm not quite ready to totally bail out from society and be a hermit.

To be completely honest, having to deal with humanoids on a daily basis bothered me more 5 or 10 years ago. It's NOT because I've mellowed in any way. For instance, nowdays when I have a traumatic experience with some goddamned fastfood clerk jerkoff I know I'm gonna be writing about it later on. I sometimes wish I had a notepad with me waiting in line at Wal-mart.

There's no sense in my feeling any worse than absolutely neccessary dealing with members of the human species. I hate people as much as ever..but whenever possible I'm going to continue to view my dealings with them as "research".

Todays pet peeve: local city councils taking it upon themselves to make formal declarations concerning current American foreign policy. DO YOUR JOBS!! Leave foreign policy to those elected or appointed to deal with it. It's a total smoke screen since no matter how well intentioned these statements are they mean NOTHING. So QUIT WASTING the taxpayers money, assholes.

I've been watching alot of "dating" TV shows lately. In fact, it's gotten to the point that I prefer to watch "blind date" for instance rather than the usual trusty old sitcoms on TV land.

The general theme of all these shows seems to be "people are annoying pigs without a clue how they come across to others". I TOTALLY AGREE with that theory of course. It's nothing new to me. There are some obnoxius women on these shows..but the disgusting, arrogant, brainless, childish and worthless men out number them 5-1.

That's the way it is in real life...I've known this since I was a teenager observing guys trying to get into girls pants. It's to be expected that a teenage guy is going to be confused and awkward chasing after females, but it's shameful and disgraceful how transparent the pickup moves of the average 30 year old male are.

You can see these guys in bars across our fair land from fashionable urban dance clubs to rural beer joints with gravel parking lots and Conway Twitty on the jukebox. They slam a few drinks and start coming on strong and demanding to the nearest female completely ignoring any signals she's giving off. Finally when the poor woman has to get rude and tell the bozo off rather than learn from the experience he just struts off mumbling how she must be a "fuggin' dyke".

Come on Romeo! I'm a social leper and even I could pitch woo better than that!! It's like fishing..if you try to reel 'em in too fast they're gonna wriggle off the damn hook.

I fucking loathe assholes who can't understand the meaning of the word NO. Some of the lowest scumbags of the rotten human species are guys who keep pestering women they've known for awhile who are no longer interested in them. That's not to say there aren't plenty of women like this..but the guys out number them.

I've seen so many of them cry in their beer and piss and moan and sometimes make public scenes. COME ON DICKHEAD! there are plenty more where she came from. Get soused a few times, spin a few George Jones albums and get on with your life.

There isn't a true topgun cocksman out there who hasn't been turned down lotsa times or even dumped for no reason. Roll with the punches and play it cool. Develope a sense of humor about things and the pussy will flock to you.

1/30/03

Before I forget, I've GOT to comment on my "super Sunday" experience. For years Marla and I used to be huge NFL fans...we specifically were Raiders fans. A few years ago we lost interest mutually in it without ever sitting down and discussing it.

Now THAT'S PROOF that the NFL ain't what it once was; like I've told Elvis so many times over the years..whenever his Mother and I AGREE TOTALLY on something (which isn't as often as you'd think maybe)..it's the truth. If we both come to the conclusion football has gone down the toilet..IT HAS. We both decided long ago to NOT RECOGNIZE NFL football. I've written in depth about why I think this is so; I'm not here to rehash that. I'm here to set up the vow I made the Saturday night before the superbowl that just took place.

Elvis and I agreed we were gonna actually watch it..give our old favorite team a chance to impress us and perhaps lure us back to being football fans. I SWORE in fact that if the Raider's won, I would make a true effort to catch up on whats going on in the league a bit in the off seaon and to watch games the FIRST FOUR WEEKS of next season. In other words, thee Whiskey Rebel would agree to RECOGNIZE the NFL for a few weeks.

We tuned in..and as we all know it was an embarassing blowout. The Raiders appeared to be sluggish..and more afraid of losing than eager to win. They CHOKED..and I won't be watching any NFL games anytime in the near future. Once again..Marla and I DON'T RECOGNIZE the sport. It DOESN'T EXIST.

I HAVE SPOKEN!!!

The halftime show was FUCKING AWFUL.

Shania Twain is to female singers what velveeta is to cheese. She's like a Britney for adults..WORTHLESS musically. WORTHLESS.....WORTHLESS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

If you like Shania Twain even ONE BIT..if you tolerate your significant other blindly adoring that ditsy little cutey...I FORBID you to read this diary. GET THE FUCK OUT!! YOU AREN'T WELCOME. Go buy a goddamned Shania coffee mug or mousepad and ogle it for hours.

STING has been boring the shit out of anybody with any sense for many years now..so his phoney-accent-slow motion 3rd-rate reggae hammered dogshit came as no surprise. NO DOUBT wasn't quite as bad..give them a couple more years! It took STINK a while to sink to the nauseating level he has. That's not due to any redeeming musical or performance virtues on the part of NO DOUBT. They're incredibly artificial and contrived. Their posing on stage is so predictable it's GOT to be scripted. There's ALMOST nothing worse or more stupid looking than a band that is obviously trying to sell a song in a phoney manner. When the bass player has a phoney "intense" look on his face as if the music is over-the-top...when the guitar player leaps up into the air doing the splits (OVER SELLING!) during a laidback medium tempo song...when the drummers face is screwed up all emotional but he's only tapping out a little boom-chucka-boom boom beat; you've got a band that is striving to be as artificial and B-A-D-D as Styx back in their heyday.No Doubt's singer has about the same set of predictable butt-slap moves you can see in the most low budget strip club in 3rd rate towns across the USA like Idaho Falls Idaho and Peoria Illinois. Most of the 80's hair metal singers like Vince Neil and David Lee Roth did EXACTLY what she does on stage...only BETTER. But, because her bandmates have haircuts right outta Flipside No Doubt is perceived as something new and revolutionary.

No Doubt isn't a "ska-pop" band..they aren't a "ska-punk" band they aren't "alternative"..they are a B-O-R-I-N-G band. The reason they're getting such a big push is OBVIOUS; Madonna is getting old and the music biz poobah's need to boost SOMEBODY as the next big halter-top bimbo.

When I sat down here it was to write about something else...but the memory of that putrid, lame halftime show has wiped it from my mind.

I've got a 16 ounce can of LONESTAR and a fresh shot of Jim Beam right here..to try to wash it from my mind. UUUmmmmm.

Well, that shot almost did the job. Unfortunately I'm reminded for some reason of an aspect of Shania Twain's stage show I fucking LOATH. I can't STAND the hokey musicians she has on stage mincing around the stage striking rockstar poses as if the song weren't being piped in through massive speakers. If they were dancers I'd shrug and crack another beer..but again..they're OVER SELLING the song in a totally unconvincing manner.

THIS is supposed to be one of the dominant and biggest selling COUNTRY music acts going?? It's no more country music than the shit out of a dogs ass is a MARS BAR.

Shania Twain is to country music what "Yogi's Ark" is to Hanna Barbara cartoons; in other words it's gonna be perceived in retrospect as a LOWPOINT..an AWFUL and HIDEOUS JOKE a few years down the road.

Shania Twain's music is as hokey and vomit-inducing in an overtly sugar sweet pop manner as the BRADY BUNCH albums. She's NOT as good as the Brady's though. I've played their version of "American pie" to visitors and drunken cronies many times over the years for a laugh. Shania Twain's music isn't even funny. It's just BAD. Bad like a STYX tribute band on a Tuesday night in a small club in Salt Lake City.

We can only hope country music can BOUNCE BACK from awful non-country sounding shit like this. I'm afraid though that when the turd hits the stool-water it's gonna SINK rather than float.

1/27/03

I've mostly bounced back from being depressed last week (read a couple entries back). Actually playing music live and putting on the bloodfeast spectacle that we did was a helluva tonic. Sometimes an unexpected happening that seems even sillier than the unfair and often bleak lives we lead can bring me around too.

The final scene of "it's a mad mad mad mad world" is a fine example. It's shot in a mens hospital ward in which all the badly injured and maimed treasure seekers from the first 3 and 1/2 hours of the movie are in traction and terribly fucked up physically. Spencer Tracy leans to the guy in the next bed and essentially asks "what is there left to live for?"...he's lost his Wife and Daughter, his job, money..and he's crippled up. A commotion at that exact moment in the other end of the room reveals the answer. The female foghorn charachter who has been bitching and hollaring at everybody for the entire long movie stomps into the room mouth going 90 mph. Suddenly, she slips on a banana peel..and every man in the room (all of 'em have multiple injuries and are destined for jail when they recover) busts out laughing as she lands on her ass and starts moaning and screaming.

Fellas?? Remember what happened back when you played baseball and a short-hop grounder cracked some poor guy in the nuts?? He'd double over screaming..and everybody else doubled over LAUGHING. I was watching a major league game within the last year and when one of the guys caught a ball in the nuts every ball player within sight went into convulsions of laughter on the spot. Even the broadcasting team had a bit of a laugh (a bit subdued) at that one.

Remember that great Bukowski story..in which he's ready to off himself in his tiny room but walks to the corner to get a paper to see what date it is?? The headline read "Milton Berle's Cousin killed by falling rock"; this seemed so strange and warped and in a weird way funny that he immediately realized he didn't want to leave this laugh riot we know as human life. He walked back home refreshed and ready to live.

When I was alot younger I could cheer myself up by reading old clippings from magazines and newspapers about myself from my chess prodigy days. Later, I could play our records and my spirits would be revived. That only worked for about the first 20 records or so. In recent times it just takes more to cheer me up.

Yunno, I bet I should've practiced what I preached in my latest Carbon14 column and slapped on a wrestling video tape when I was depressed. That probably would've worked. Not a "history of the Fantastics" tape..but a lengthy collection of great moments by a true role model like Bruiser Brody or Dr. "D" David Schultz".

ANOTHER REASON FOR YOU TO LIVE: (at least for another 90 days or so)..STEEL CAGE books (and records of course) is sending off my second book to the printers this week. In early April it should be available.

It's titled "HOSTILE CITY or BUST". Its a look at the thrills, rewards, horrors and agonies (mostly agonies) of moving to a new place centered around our move from Portland to Philly in 1994. There's alot of philosophy in the early part of the book about why people stay in one place and or move to another part of the US. When we were preparing to move our "friends" in Portland mostly (not all) treated us like SHIT as moving day came closer. WHY?? Read the book..it could happen to you too. I'm certain I would've been found swinging from an attic beam if I had been forced to live in Portland forever. The last 3/4's of the book involve the actual day to day hour to hour HELL of trying to drive AND SURVIVE with a piece of shit UHAUL trailer dragging us down constantly threatening our lives. In my minds eye as I wrote it I envisioned what a great tragic/funny John Candy movie it would make (oops...he's dead) and it's all true. It's way the hell shorter than "Jobjumper" which was so long it may have scared some non-regular readers off. It's not up to ME to judge how it stacks up overall with "Jobjumper"..but I can guarantee the chapter in which I come within seconds of dying on Mt. Rushmore is probably the best thing in either book. We're going to carry a load of them here at home this time rather than foreward folks who know me or who regularly read this to buy them from Steel Cage. The reason I didn't even keep a box in the house when "Jobjumper" was published is due to the double edged fact that I know so many people personally who DESERVE free books. I can't SEND 'em all freebies though, because there are simply TOO GODDAMNED MANY of you. In early Rancid Vat days we'd send off a dozen or two copies of a new record since that covered everybody we knew. I'm in touch with several times as many people these days..and if I give them to more than a very intimate handful (6-8) of people other mutual acquantances will feel hurt I didn't send THEM one. Beneath my gruff exterior I'm a soft touch about giving stuff to friends and visitors. It's ONE thing to give somebody a 7" vinyl slab that costs a couple bucks and retails for $4; it's ANOTHER to give away a book that retails for $12-$15 bucks.

I appreciate the hell out of free stuff I get in the mail for the most part. But, I Don't EXPECT it...and I sure as hell don't hold it against somebody who doesn't send me something for FREE just because I want it.

We'll stock our Ebay store with copies so people can pay with their damn credit cards if they want it. There'll be updates leading up to publication day right here. For now, start saving your money NOW if neccessary. Skip a WWE PPV (featuring "Triple ZZZ"...Snore...!!) and you'll be able to buy multiple copies.

1/27/03

Many Texans seem to be real pussies about weather below 60 degrees. It's gotten down into the 40's over the last few days and Marla told me they were actually sending people home early where she works because customers won't come out when its that cold.

I wore a coat for the first time as a Texan on our way to our show at Emo's. Attendance was fine by the standards of other cities, but I thought a bit low for Austin on a Thursday night. What the hell...there were alot of interesting people to talk with who turned up. One guy there moved to Austin from Portland 3 months ago. He knows probably 1/2 of our ex bandmembers and 1/2 of the people we knew over the years in other bands. I commented on the "Portland attitude" that I hate so much (they stomp around beating their breasts telling each other it's the only habitable city in the U.S.). He related that he hadn't realized there WAS a "Portland attitude" until an Austin friend pointed it out in a friendly Texas manner.

Our set went great..we didn't fuck up a single song. I made the biggest technical boo boo for once..but we flew right past it. I wore the Sheik headrag my Brother in Kuwait sent over recently along with a SHEIK T-shirt. We made it clear from the start the set was dedicated to the SHEIK who passed away a few days ago. There was a fair amount of hussing from the people in front of the stage. At the end of the set we played our new closer "the nature boy" and the Texas Stud and I chased people from the stage area sporting crimson masks. I'm not much of a juicer..I just dribble a little down my noggin usually..but this time blood was actually pumping in a horizontal direction out of my head that made a little warm splash.

I got an email this morning from a working wrestler who was in attendance. I remember selling him a CD...nice guy. We do it all for HIM and his Brethren; the rest of the people who show up are secondary in importance. There was a guy there from Laredo who told me about his Brother's band "the ayatollah's" who also use wrestling schtick. I can't wait to hear more about them.

I'm signing off for now....I feel a shit coming on that's probably going to be pumping out in warm horizontal bursts. I'm tired of pinching it in...

1/21/03

Phil Irwin substituting for the Whiskey Rebel today. I've been in a dark fucking mood the last couple days. Too many responsibilities and things I'm behind on hit me at once. I quickly bounced back from the twice-annual or so suicidal feelings I experience leaving myself in a borderline insane frenzy which I've managed to crawl up and out of more or less even though I can't talk to anybody right now. Not my best friends..not my new relatives. Sorry.

I don't want pity. The only reason I bring this up as I have before when I'm depressed is I truly believe "misery enjoys company". As selfish as it sounds I've always felt encouraged on the rare occasions a friend has revealed that they too find themselves in bleak shitty moods like this.

No, I don't want to sit around in a circle with a bunch of other depressed people and swap stories. I DON'T TRUST GROUPS. I don't want medication either, although I know several people who feel it's helped them. I HAVE an effective medication. It comes in 12 ounce cans and half gallon jugs.

When I felt this mood coming on the first thing I probably should have done is pour a drink or two. I didn't..because I wanted to make it clear to my immediate family here who wonder what the hells wrong that my mood wasn't DUE to me drinking. I went through the motions of my evening Ebay work alcohol free because I usually don't start drinking until midnight these days (I go to bed about 7:00 am). I wanted to try to get past this without booze.

Today in a bit more coherent mood I told both Marla and Elvis that they should've HANDED me a "Sinatra" (Whiskey Rebel slang for a bourbon and water) without comment. That would've been an acknowledgement from them that my problems were initiated by sobriety. I HOPE they fucking remember to next time. Once I had a few I felt better. Incidentally for those curious "a few" was just that..a very light night of drinking. In retrospect I should've gotten plowed. I WOULD HAVE if I knew that certain bad things were going to happen TODAY as well.

My ability to quickly bounce back from a string of bad luck..has drifted away.

If I run out of mustard and step on a thumb tack 5 minutes later it's sometimes enough to put me on edge. I start expecting everything to go wrong.

I need to transform into the Whiskey Rebel Thursday night for our show at Emo's. Tomorrow's Wednesday..I've still got plenty of time to snap out of it all.

10 years ago I NEVER would've been able to admit stuff like this publicly..I would've been afraid of my "enemies" sitting around toasting my misery or I would've been afriad one of them might email me and give me the business.

Nowdays I realize that I DRAW STRENGTH from my enemies; I enjoy nothing more than climbing up off of the canvas when one or more of them thinks I've been dealt a knockout punch. Thanks alot dickheads!!

On that happy note, I'll "escape" to the PS2..having spent many hours working on our new for the first time in a couple years..2003 Brilliancy Prize Records catalog. We're doing it up because we realized a few days ago that not everybody owns a computer. OOPS! Former mail correspondance with alot of people we heard from for up to 15-20 years has trailed off a bit.

By the way..I'm not so self centered that I haven't spent time mourning THE SHEIK (yunno...the one up in Michigan..Sabu's Uncle) who passed away a few days ago. I intend to salute him in a special way onstage Thursday.

01/16/03

As far as foreign policy goes, here's my latest thoughts in a nutshell. The biggest boobs of all in my book are the attention-seeking do-gooder Americans and Canadians who've flown to Iraq in hopes that their presence will deter the US from striking against that worthless, lying regime. They are the same sort of assholes who are butt-stacked without a fight in prisons worldwide.

I DON'T CARE how many Iraqi's die if and when we finally rip into them. Do they give a shit how many Americans died on 9/11?? of course not. They'd CELEBRATE in the streets if an even worse terrorist attack succeeded. See what a mess organized religion causes?? They hate Americans..and assume we are all Christians and therefore worthy of death in the name of their ficticious god.

I'd like to see some attention by the pacifists of the world directed towards the asshole muslim-hardline-suicide dickheads that keep stirring the death pot in Israel.

I'd like to see a bodacious demonstration on the part of the "peace" movement against North Korea's recent nuke-happy threats.

The only people who are intimidated incidentally by N.K.'s out of their league shit-talk are people who've never spent a saturday night at a blue collar bar. That's where it's really common to hear assholes who have had a hair worked up their ass sideways TALK about what a beating they're gonna dish out to some guy twice as big as them. Of course 99.9% of the time they get their damn ASS kicked. It's all covered in the Hank Jr. song "attitude adjustment".

As a man who stands 6' 2" and weighs in at 270+ I can tell you firsthand that there is just a certain strain of fool with a "little man" complex who has to run his mouth off to us big guys whenever he gets looped. It's considered good form to ignore wimps like this at first..hopefully their friends will drag them out of the bar home. When they persist it's sometimes neccessary to kick their fucking ass. It's a shame that when a big man DOES kick the ass of some loser running his mouth there's never a shortage of dweebs to shed crocodiles tears and screech "you didn't have to hit 'em!!..YOU ASSHOLE!!".

Back to Iraq. I don't believe theorists at all who try to equate Bush as being as bad as Saddam. It's just empty wordgames by misguided people playing devil's advocate. No, I don't totally trust Bush. But I don't trust or respect Saddam AT ALL.

My advice for our nation in the future?? Strive to seperate church and State as much as possible. They're joined at the hip right now..not quite to the extreme of nations that would deport a man for drinking a beer though. Once we've dropped Christianity as the national religion we'll be attacked by the same nations for being infidel atheists as opposed to infidel Christians; that sounds great to me!!

1/14/03

Sometimes I'm blown away by the utter stupidity and/or rudeness of my "valued" Ebay customers. But for that matter, sometimes I'm amazed how intelligent and informed a tiny handful of them are. I've been flatout impressed for over 3 years how reliable and steady the customers are for certain categories of merchandise. Country music buyers on Ebay are pleasant and great to deal with 99.999% of the time. The absolute worst are real life Beevis and Butthead types into shit like I.C.P.

I hate to say it but as much as I liked his music, G.G. Allin fan's are almost the bottom of the barrel charachter wise. Fine people to know maybe..but worthless as customers.

Jazz buffs are anal and irritating 15% of the time. "Oldies" record collectors are so stuck on their record grading system and their overly obvious methods designed to bilk or trick a seller out of something valuable..they can be total pests.

When people make me offers beneath my minimum listed bid on an item..I DELETE their email. I have little patience for assholes after something for nothing. On the other hand I've bent over backwards to meet special requests of total strangers. I've offered help and advice to people who seem genuinely confused scores of times.

I recently got one of the weirdest requests out of the thousands of emails I've gotten generated by Ebay. I've GOT to print it here. I'm deliberately not including the senders name:

"Hi, I was recently turned on to BHTATM by mu girlfriend. She loves them and we are going to the show on 1/30/2003 at Irving Plaza, NYC. I was wondering if you had any information or contacts about getting backstage passes for that event. I want to surprise her. I already got her general admission tix for the show but I realy want to go over the top and get these passes for her. I know that they will cost some $$$ and I'm willing to do whatever it takes in taking care of someone for the rigght info or access to the passes. I only need two (2). Let me know, Thanks"

The emailer contacted me evidently because I had a T-shirt auctioned..minimum bid $2.99 for this band (Big head Todd and the monsters). I have a few rhetorical questions..although I'm not contacting this fellow however sincere he may be in wanting to please his girlfriend.

1) why in the hell would he think somebody selling a T-shirt for less than $3 on Ebay would have backstage passes??

2) what kind of a promoter SELLS backstage passes??

3) What kind of a sadsack band would tolerate a promoter selling unrestricted backstage passes?? Don't they value their privacy??

4) is this a come-on in some sort of way I have figured out??

5) should I have responded with a false arrangement..yunno: "meet me under the Holland tunnel offramp at midnight"??? or "at the monkey-crap exhibit at the museum of natural history...bring me $200 in nickels"..

6) is this the band itself resorting to some sort of desperate tactics to stir up interest in their tour??

I eventually sold the T-shirt for $2.99...it was a very ugly green. If a band member of mine came up to me with a T-shirt to sell that looked that shitty I'd forbid them to do it.

7) Did you know that I get an email almost exactly once per month from the same person asking me for Merle Allin's email address?? (I don't have it). In the last one he stated that I gave it to him a while back..but he lost it. Yeaahhhh...SSUURREEEEE.

1/12/03

I showed up at SOUND EXCHANGE in Austin on Saturday prepared to stock them up with some of the stuff we sell and to go through their $1.00 album room. I was disgusted to hear upon arrival that they're closing up soon. SHIT. Another great record store gone.

I wound up finding 70 or so reduced price .50 cent albums worth toting home (Marla looked like another 10 would've busted her frigging gourd!! I could use an extra Wife at times like that). I picked up a copy of a live TUBES double-album that reminded me of a point worth relating to you folks dumb and stubborn enough to play in bands. Marla and I saw the TUBES a couple nights before this double album was recorded in the late 70's. The stage was loaded with wild costumes and lack of costumes in many cases; lots of bare breasts, simulated sex and loin cloths. Their set ended with a rousing version of their anthem "white punks on dope" in which singer Fee Waybill came out on stage sporting 5 foot tall platform shoes that were actually stilits. It was a great set by a lively fucking band. They had the 4,000 or so fans eating out of their fucking hands by the end of the set.

Flash forward about 3 years and 2 MTV hits later for this once mighty band. We walked into the Tacoma dome to see David Bowie live and to our surprise the TUBES were opening the show. We only caught the end of the bands set; no bare breasts..no simulated sex..only 7 borderline middleaged guys wearing suits playing music just a bit slightly more boring and commercial than the worst couple Cheap Trick albums. The last song once again was "white punks on dope" and Fee came out wearing similar stilt/boots. The reaction was totally different. Nobody gave a shit about what was happening with the exception of 100 or so obvious hardcore fans right in front of the stage.

Same set ending song..louder amplification, a bit tighter musicianship (probably) same goofy stilt/boot costume...and the majority of the audience was totally oblivious to the TUBES.

Remember: rock and roll (and other genres of music I might add) performed live is a matter of delicate timing. When we started out like many other ignorant bands we'd play every song we knew until we were practically pulled off the stage with big hooks. Now Marla and I know better..and we at least TRY to keep our sets a bit shorter and better planned out. I read in Jeff Clayton's tour diary pt. II in the latest Carbon14 about his disgust over opening acts that play TOO long; I agree...you don't win over fans..you piss people OFF. If that's your point, FINE. Don't expect to play with us or Antiseen again in the future. We've had people try to play the stage-hog game on us for 20+ years. There ain't a goddamned one of 'em that ever amounted to a hill of shit any way you slice it.

"White punks on dope" was a good song. Unfortunately, if it follows 50 minutes of sappy sell-out non-energetic pop b.s. it's not going to make much of an impact. It didn't at the Tacoma dome that night..and for that matter the TUBES looked funny but sounded AWFUL on the SCTV episode they appeared on. Their suits and short hair look which I suppose was meant to be a sort of parody of corporate bands in the early 80's..but it stunk up my TV screen when accompanied by ironic/smart alecky poppy sounding songs that avoided profanity or controversy. I once had a video tape of a show the TUBES performed in L.A. at the end of their band's existance. It was PUTRID. I taped over it at the first opportunity.

What happened to the TUBES happens to alot of bands who make that big commercial push. The same hot set ending song can find a band performing for either a foaming at the mouth crowd in a small to medium sized hall...or a large number of bored people in an arena who will NEVER attend another show including the very same band.

Imagine what a horrid band YOUR favorite profane/obnoxius/sexual band would be if they began performing G or PG rated material???

1/08/03

He was born several years ago on this date. A helluva lot of the world sings his praises as they should; a lot of others find fault with him even though they couldn't measure up to his talents on their own best day. He had a lengthy career recording for RCA records. During that period of time he pissed off alot of parents due to the "lewd" way he carried himself onstage.

On this day...HIS day..I'd just like to say "happy birthday"..you've enrichened the lives of all we Irwin's. Hail David..David Bowie!!

What's that?? You thought I was refering to Elvis Presley??

I'm just toying with what's left of your frigging mind. Yeah, Elvis Presley was born on this day too. Obviously I'm a HUGE fan....having named my only begotten son after him. No, we haven't turned heel on the KING. It is odd that he and Bowie share the same birthday especially considering they were the major RNR recording artists for their mutual label over the years.

There are a great many coincidences concerning the two. As innovative but un-heralded second banana guitar players go Mick Ronson and Scotty Moore lead the damned list. Elvis had sucess with "hound dog" and Bowie with "Diamond dogs". Elvis was reemed over the years $$$ wise by Colonel Tom Parker..and Bowie by Tony Visconti.

They certainly had alot of mutual friends particularly amongst the ranks of other musicians and singers. I haven't actually sat down and worked it out on paper but It's likely that since they were both RCA artists they shared a few session musicians for that matter.

Nick Tosches described Elvis as being a sort of crooner successor to Bing Crosby and Dean Martin; Bowie of course actually sang on TV with Bing. Elvis sang on TV with Frank. Hank sang on TV with Anita Carter.

It's a big day to play some music and gargle alot of beers no matter which of these guys you're into the most.

If you'd rather, it's permissable to drink in MY honor. No one will be hurt. I drove my brat Elvis's band to the recording studio last night so they could lay down some heavy sounds...the band is called CATS FROM MARS. El is 18..the bass player 16 and the drummer 14. Yeah, yeah, I'm very proud of course; especially proud they don't play rap-core or any other such horseshit. They play ROCK AND FUCKING ROLL...inspired probably the most by the CRAMPS who are in my opinion the best band left in the universe today.

They managed to cram in 9 songs..they left with final mixes for them all in only 5 hours. That's incredible..but of course they play fairly raw at times. Still, being objective they have a couple really good songs better than most bands ever come up with.

It's damned important that kids their age play guitar oriented RNR unless you want it to come to a screeching halt. At one point in time many years ago I was prepared for RNR to die out..but having experienced the garbage that was intended to replace it I changed my mind. I'm out to PRESERVE REAL RNR...and I think YOU should too.

If you disagree you may as well go somewhere else website wise.

Of course I'm into preserving REAL country music too for that matter..and into shortsheeting and destroying on site rap, rap-metal, pop-diva horseshit, boy band nonsense, etc, etc.

This has all been expressed elsewhere in this now lengthy diary..but I may as well state it again since we're starting a new year.

I'm of course in favor of drinking a great deal of beer every 24 hours or so..and that's what I'm going to do as soon as I back out of here..which is right now.

1/03/03

Our Rancid Vat 22nd anniversary set the other night was all we could hope for and then some. We played last at the end of a lengthy punkfest that's been held for years in San Antonio. I was glad to see that a decent crowd stayed even after alot of bands had played. This was the first show for our new singer the Texas Stud. The stage was large..the sound poor..but not as bad as lots of other places. The first half of the set went along fairly well..we fucked up one song..but the rest sounded fine. As we started intensifying things to try to end the show at a fever pitch I tossed a few empty bottles and a large whiskey tumbler out at the crowd. YUNNO....standard performer/audience interaction Rancid Vat style. Nothing fancy.

I'll reveal a trade secret here. Whenever we've played for several years we've always made it a practice to look for a DOPE in the audience who just doesn't GET IT whom we can exploit. Sometimes it's a guy wearing a T-shirt that we can point out and make fun of. Once it was a frat boy with a perm who had no business being there. On this particular night we drew a moron who thought evidently that I "disrespected him" because one of my bottles landed near him. He came up to the front of the stage with a broken off bottle held aloft. GREAT! We couldn't have scripted it any better, could we?? Some people might read this and wonder if he was a plant. He WASN'T..but I'd consider planting somebody in the future to act just like this guy.

Imagine the poor fellows chagrin when our new front man calmly met him at the front of the stage with his own blade..ready to rumble. I became aware of all this because the club personnel immediately freaked out and pulled the plug on us mid-song.

Some of the mark's bandmates (yes..believe it or not..he's in a BAND..he REALLY should know better!) pulled the guy away from the stage area and another one came up to talk to us about it all. We pointed out the obvious fact that flying bottles were as much a part of our set as a million other gimmicks used by a million other bands. It's OUR stage as long as we're up there employed by the club. The guy didn't even get hit with a damned bottle..so he should've just left the stage area if he felt endangered. Nobody even said a word to him from the stage..he was just the nightly DOPE who didn't GET IT.

I'd like TO THANK HIM here and now on behalf of our entire band for doing his best to help us out. Even though our set ended prematurely the crowd engaged in a spontaneous "HUSS HUSS HUSS" with the lights up and people being urged to leave immediately.

The cops were summoned..we loaded our gear out the back and took off. We met up at a bandmembers home and drank whiskey and Lone Star and waited for our money to get there. Yes..believe it or not..we GOT PAID. And deservedly so..nobody got hit with a bottle...and a knife fight didn't actually take place. We had played a bit over half of our set. Luckily a friend was one of the guys counting out the money to bands and we were taken care of.

Usually when trouble goes down at a club we wind up getting dicked out of our money; in some cases we didn't even bother to ask for it.

Nobody in our band even came close to wimping out or acting cowardly when trouble came along. I'm really glad of that. Of course we've got room to improve in many ways with this relatively new incarnation of the band and we'll mangle a song here or there but most importantly Marla and I have seen these boys tested in FIRE. THAT'S what I'm mostly concerned with. We can't play with WIMPS or COWARDS in the band. We've been a confrontational band since day one and that's the way it's gonna stay until I drop dead.

I was in fine form riding back home 45 miles from San Antonio with Elvis being the sober driver for Marla and I. We were all sitting in the cab of my truck with me by the passenger window which I couldn't get to work. I had drank many, many beers and helped polish off a lot of whiskey. What cinched my alcoholic demeanor was the fact that I can't really eat much before playing music live. Whiskey drinking on an empty stomach can lead to wacky behavior to say the least..and friend, I was three sheets in the wind drunk. I kept bellowing every quarter mile...."BBWWWWWAAHHHHH!!!!!!" I didn't want more booze..I wanted WATER. The only beer I drank all night was Lone Star which is darker than what I'm used to. I'm a very delicate frail flower in ways..and I NEEDED some water. RIGHT THEN..NOT when we got home. So, "BBWWAAAAHHHHH!!!!!!!!" I moaned as Elvis and Marla got more and more disgusted.

When we finally got home I climbed into the sack fully clothed without even getting a glass of water. I woke up 4 hours later and ate half a frozen pizza and drank about 3 quarts of water and Coca Cola and passed out again.

Here it is two nights later and I still feel like shit. I went through my normal drinking cycle last night..some Coors and a few shots of Henry McKenna. I STILL feel like shit..48 hours later."BBBBBBBBBWWWWWWWWAAAAAHHHHHHH""".

Brilliancy Prize Records

PO Box 1781

San Marcos, TX 78666

whskyreb@mail.centurytel.net

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