Saturday, July 10, 2010

Fuck Metalheads

I know what you are thinking - "LOLZ but Jared, you are the biggest metal to evar metal! What gives! LOL?" Well it's true, and it maybe more than a little hypocritical, but to be fair, without hypocrisy, this blog would be even less useless and certainly less entertaining. I suppose I should clarify - I hate metal scenesters, which is still basically 98% of people who identify as metalheads. I can prove this by breaking them down into a few totally contrived but eerily accurate archetypes, thus:

The Show Whore - This guy, or gal (ha!) is the biggest fan of the next touring act to come though town. Literally as soon as dates are announced in a sports venue or crack den bar near you, they are telling you all about this band's back catalog, and linking you to Youtube videos of all their seminal achievements in musicdom, and probably some interviews too. Their dedication to being the know-it-all of the now makes their unswerving and timely allegiance almost believable; that is if I hadn't myself skimmed through many a wikipedia article in under a minute looking for that golden tidbit of information meant to be the verbal equivalent of a baseball game to some pseudo-intellectual's pointless and utterly erroneous jerk-off session of self-assured conjecture. That is to say these guys are better data miners than the love child of Mark Zuckerberg, google, and any 10 professional Chinese national spam artists you can name.
They will be at EVERY metal show - and it will always be one of the best shows they've seen - note that shows in the suburbs are the exception because no scenester can be bothered to spend 15 minutes in rapid transit just to listen to MUSIC -. And if you thought they wouldn't stop telling YOU about the band of the minute, heaven help you if you are in the band and you dare to mingle with the crowd afterwards.

The Fashionista - Fucks, this guys is so metal. Just looks at all the spikes he has. Looks at alls the patches he's wearings. Looks hows longs his hairs is. Looks how manys powder-free bullets he has arounds his waist. Looks ats how manys tattoos he has. LOOK! NO, DON'T FUCKIN TALK TO ME! There's a pretty decent chance this guy is in a band. There's an even better chance that he's the bass player. Has a closet full of Iron Maiden shirts. Can't name his favorite Maiden album.

The Musician - Does he listen to x band? Sure, they just love to play in D minor, but they move to the 4th interval for the bridge every time. If you approach him in the smoke pit or between sets, he's more likely to talk about Jaco Pastorius or Eric Johnson than a metal act. Sure, they'll talk about metal, just don't expect to hold their attention talking about any band that doesn't use musical palindromes, multiple time signatures in every movement, or a cleverly concealed homages to Miles Davis in between a technically brilliant but aesthetically unlistenable singers pretentious ramblings about string theory. Is in a band nobody listens to, and if he's not from Quebec, he wishes he was.

The Alcoholic - Aka the Metal Party Person - doesn't give a fuck who's playing or who's showing up as long as there's beer. And whiskey. And Fuckin Jagerbombs. They will be well into alcoholic catatonia and walking around as if their left leg was six inches shorter than their right. They will have purchased two drinks and hit on your girlfriend twice in the time it takes you to get one beer from the bar. They are a spinning vortex of alcohol and drugs, which is to say either are inexorably and rapidly drawn into them, never to be seen again save through the shameful yet entertaining actions of said vortex. The idea that they will remember what band they are watching in a weeks time is something of a joke, the thought that they know any of their songs by name is completely Fucking laughable. Is likely to be in a band, as this archetype provides 90% of all drummers.

The Jock - Has 3 metal albums, and they are by Drowning Pool and Avenged Sevenfold. If a portion of every dollar they spend on clothes doesn't go to pay for endorsment deals for Brock Lesnar or Georges St Pierre, then the Queen of England wears a Hello Kitty thong. They go to metal shows for one reason - to try and dominate the mosh pit. In one of fate's more humorous and lubricated ironies, they seem to think they will have no problem throwing around a few greasy metalheads, even though the bitter and clammy truth is that in their own utter cluelessness when it comes to 'slam dancing' causes them them to remove their shirts in a regretteably peacockish display, the render themselves the bipedal equivalent of a 200 pound egg yolk covered in bacon grease kept in slightly warmer than room temperature environs. That is to say they become a large sweat soaked nuisance that can't help being a nuisance to everyone within 10 meters of the stage (4 at a bar). People avoid them, they plow right through any cluster of people in their way, but not for the reasons they like to think. If you had ten of these orangutans, strapped them to a turbine in a circular formation and threw them in to a mosh pit, BAM, Fuckin perpetual motion, I just provided the world with unlimited energy. You're welcome.
These people, however, are never welcome. Never.

I think there's more, I just don't give a Fuck right now

Tuesday, June 29, 2010

Cocktails you can drink and not look like a bitch

Let's be honest, nobody likes beer shits, but they are like an annoying 'friend' that enriches your life in no way, and yet is ever present, generally annoying the Fuck out of you (I'm happy to say I've been that friend to a great many people). Add to that the fact that beer makes you godawfully fat over a a period of prolonged use and you wonder what the Fucking point is if all it does is get you drunk and taste like God's breast milk ought to taste like, in the event that God may actually be female. Women already know all this, and being that both these downsides are anathema to prim and proper womanhood, the cocktail industry is here to provide stable employment as well as a nearly infinite supply of small change and oversexed older women for a legion of our civilizations finest actors - I mean bartenders.
The problem for those of us who are packing rolled coins as opposed to a change purse is that drinking anything other than Beer, shots, or highballs, or flaming sambuccas makes you look like a flaming homosexual, or at the very least, someone who is likely easy to rob. Well don't worry, here's a bunch of cocktails you can drink and still look like a man, so shut up you Fuckin baby.

Oh yeah, and before we start, you should keep in mind that you need to ditch straws and garnishes alike - after all it's hard not to look like a fruit if you've already got fruit all over your rim, and no Hollywood scout is going to notice you and cast you as the lead in Don Juan: 2010 if you are basically sucking on a miniature penis. So anyways, here are your best bets for taking the 'cock' out of 'cocktail'


Caesars are Fucking awesome. They taste great, they will get you drunk just as fast as you please, and plus you add Tobasco Sauce to it - there are no frilly-assed women's drinks that require you to add Tabasco sauce. The downside of course is that if you are drinking this one to improve your overall bathroom experience, you are barking up the wrong tree my friend. The upside is that it's easy to imagine you're drinking Fucking blood. And get rid of the celery salt. Throw it in the drink if you like it that much but you're drinking straight from the glass, you don't need that shit crusted around your lips, or do I really need to tell you that you're opening the door to all kinds of abuse that way?


Basically, just take every clear 80 proof alcohol you can find and mix it with 2 things that have nothing to do with Iced Tea, which are cola and margarita mix, and you get something that tastes strangely like Iced Tea. Not as strange, it gets you hammered very quickly.


Lets face it, it's not the 1960's, and you sure as Fuck aren't Sean Connery. That being the case, anything in a Martini glass is unacceptable at UFC parties. Of course they didn't have UFC in the 60's either. In any case, Martinis are still a pretty good drink, and once you slam that Fucker in a rocks glass, you are golden.


As if the name isn't Fucking enough for you, the Rusty Nail is one of the most manly drinks you can get. First of all, nothing is more manly than Scotch. Second of all, if you are going to add anything to it, then add WHISKEY LIQUER to it. It's like mixer that is just as potent as the shit you are mixing it with. So drink up, bitch. An alternative to this is a Godfather, which is Scotch and Amaretto, and if anybody gives you shit about that, then you can always cut off a horses head and put it in bed with the Fuckin cunt, so they have a nice surprise when they wake up in the morning.


Why? Because THIS, that's why:


OK, I know brightly coloured drinks are borderline at best. But lets be realistic. The key ingredient to Zombies are 151 proof rum. The other key ingredients are white rum, amber rum, and dark rum. Yeah yeah, there's juice too, but this is a drink you can light on fire. If some douche canoe with an Affliction shirt on and a Coors Light in his hand starts giving you a hard time for drinking one, just tell him you can't hear him over your 75% alcohol, and he can have a cold certified broken rib sandwich if he's got a problem with that.



Otherwise its just a Fucking highball


Here you are introducing three completely different chemicals to your digestive system, and they don't always get along. Most people know what the Fuck you are drinking when they see one, and even though it isn't the manliest looking drink out there, they can usually appreciate why it's called a Paralyzer. Because it will make you puke all over your Fucking pants.


Just kidding.


Let's face it it, appearances are everything. You want to really not Fuck around? You want to really not drink beer and still make people think you'll put their head through the God damned jukebox if they give you a dirty look? Don't Fuck around. Drink a triples glass full of Fucking whiskey.

Now Fuck off and go get drunk

Monday, June 28, 2010

Canna-dis Day

I like living in Canada. We have more nature than we could ever explore, a reasonable extent of social equality, and given enough hard work and common sense, you can hypothetically have any Fucking thing you want. And that's why I like Canada Day. Call me a nationalist piece of brainwashed shit if you want, but our national holiday is something I respect and something I celebrate. And that's why I Fucking hate cannabis day.

As if their ignorant crusade to make Adolf Hitler's birthday an occasion for nationwide - no - worldwide annual celebration wasn't enough (Fuck, Jesus only needs one day a year to celebrate his everlasting glory, or whatever bullshit reason why he was so much better than say, the guy who discovered antibiotics), an immense cross-section of the pot-smoking populace feel as if it's their place to co-opt our national holiday so they can have public smoke ins and bask in the glory that is the green herb a mere 72 days later. And thus, their ill-conceived movement to make Canada Day into Cannabis Day. In parts further east, it's a non-event as far as I'm aware, but in Vancouver, all you have to do is get on West Georgia Street and follow your nose to bunch of fruit loops gathered on the art gallery lawn every Canada Day afternoon.

Once you arrive you will bear witness to a circle jerk that can only be compared to a game of soggy cracker involving the entire NHL. Here you can find hundreds of people who will tell you why people who commit felonies in foreign countries with full awareness that they are doing so should not have to face justice in those countries. These particular individuals will also inform you that you need not be held to your word when reaching an agreement with that countries legal entities. Others will regale you with stories of police brutality in hyperbolic tales of personal despair, others will not regale you about how they are generally combative and lack any courtesy when encountering uniformed lawmen, who may or may not be walking pieces of shit in snappy uniforms. Still others will tell you about how Canada is becoming a police state, as if we aren't one of the freest and more permissive societies in the history of mankind, with the possible exception of Sweden, which is basically a more effeminate version of Norway.

My point is this: they take a day that should be about having a good time because we are Canadian, and because of that, we can bloody have a good time if we Fucking well want to - no, Fuck that, we should have a good time, and they take over a full city block and try to make it about their own petty crusade, and talk all about how this country is a piece of shit because they aren't getting taxed on their ganja, and that's Fucking insulting not only to the people who fought for our freedom, but to the new Canadians who know what living under an oppressive and cruel government is all about. I say they should get high if they want to because really, no one gives a shit, but they ought to keep their revolutionary spirit in check for a day of pride and togetherness. Keep that shit contained to April 20, and if that doesn't cut it, then wait seven days, shoot yourself in the head and get someone to light your corpse on fire