March 2010
4 posts
It was fun while it lasted!
Enjoy your stadium tours and 25 dollar tshirts.
I feel a twisted sense of accomplishment/filthiness, like right after you fuck a puma.
I mean, what could be more beautiful than a smooth, hairless nutsack encrusted in jewels? Nothing, that’s what. Take that, peaceful sleeping baby, the Grand Canyon, aurora borealis, uh…Ashley Simpson’s new nose and the In n Out double-double. There’s a new most beautiful thing on the earth: the dongazzled junk of some random dude.
2 tags
Here’s the thing though: smoking IS cool. It’s reckless and it looks rad and it really shows the world that you don’t even give a fuck enough to not walk around smelling like shit. Unforch, it’s also really wack. And it makes you die, so there’s that.
February 2010
4 posts
This one’s for you, Boner (You can’t see it, but I’m popping a single-boner salute right now. Hold it….Hold it…and done.)
You should never be dismissive of something because it’s not cool.
If you’re good looking and want to bone and this guy is single and you get along and you live on opposite sides of the country, he’ll bone you. That’s a fucking promise.
I never thought of Germans as stern or mean or heartless and calculating before, but now that you mention it, I can see where someone would maybe get that impression.
January 2010
1 post
There were lots of fun ways to while away the hours that really came into their own in this last year of the aughts, but none so succinctly embodied the feeling of 2009 like scrapbooking the disembodied vaginas that you remove from the hookers you kill.
December 2009
20 posts
Okay, once the cleanliness of the Fireside Bowl glory holes is questioned, I’m done.
Air guitaring to the tunes of a bunch of dudes from Carbondale who frequent a titty bar with an all you can eat McDonalds buffet… well, that’s just the definition of cosmopoltian.
There’s nothing punk rock about diversity. Woah… that’s sad but true.
Your snide dicksmanship will get you nowhere in this world of gentlemen.
I was just being funny. You know, trying to throw a little incest humor into the mix… but I’m sorry, mother. Let’s talk about the incredibly upbeat subject of meningitis.
Slow your roll, turdsack. I’m just trying to build anticipation. It’s what we call, in the business, ‘building anticipation.’
I’m pretty sure that most of these band photos I see these days are the same, like, six dudes. They just part their hair in different ways and switch tshirts. They’re like the Fab and Rob of the Victory Records era. Fab, Rob, Rob, Fab, Fab and Rob. That’s their names. For you young kids, that’s Milli Vanilli, who were two beautiful black girls who couldn’t sing.
What I meant to imply was that AFI look like B team prostitutes.
Regarding Cobra Skulls
They’re from Reno, so you know they’re into some creepy shit, huh? Dog fucking? Human adrenal gland eating? Ska?
Regarding Sundowner
The touring would be an affair of equal parts KY and tears. Which is, ironically, exactly what it’s like when Chris and I have sex.
And finally, “I fucked his dog while he was asleep” is a euphemism for “I snuck into his house and rubbed taco meat all over my balls and had his dog and mom lick off the spices while I videotaped the whole thing over his wedding video.”
Sorry Italians and irish guys and women and midgets. You don’t get an N word. Settle for not having to grow up black in a world that’s afraid of you. How bout that?
Listen
Brendan Kelly on being the Tom Arnold of bands
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Brendan Kelly on Andrew Jackson
Brendan Kelly on punk rock, Sound Scene Revolution...
November 2009
1 post
I’m more like a warlord in some sort of compound surrounded by dust and bones and my most trusted men, just waiting, stroking my gun, eating my monkey brains right out of a human skull and wearing a fez, saying shit like “let them come” while I pet a tiger and watch two women have some sort of cramming contest involving phallic vegetables.
September 2009
7 posts
I thought rock and roll was about seeing boobs and throwing things.
My friend has this song and the chorus goes, “Are you restless like me?” And I want to hide my restlessness and casually reply, “Dude, you have no fucking idea.” I’m restless in the worst way. Restless and lazy with no desire to do anything.
Even after a long, grueling day of (for example) being called a pussy by mechanics shooting coke into their dicks, [“Ray” by Millencolin] will always bring a smile to my face.
ADVICE BEEXES
Suggestions for new Advice Beexes anyone?
"My Friend's Peter" by Brendan Kelly
I’m tired of playing with myself
I’m tired, all these butts that I no longer felch
I’m tired of lying about not eating your poo
Maybe my friend’s peter will make some homemade glue
This song goes out to Jesus, my best friend. He gave me a handjob earlier today.
Life is little more than a bullshit parade of soul crushing experiences, but man, the shit in between is great.
August 2009
2 posts
Never have so many worked so hard to insure that no matter how hard some other people work, they will not get paid, and instead they will unwittingly contribute to an international pandemic of lazy-yet-compulsive whacking off, with whispered grunts accompanied by illegally downloaded tracks from the newest Metallica album.
sup new folks
Thank god we’ve finally developed a system where fat, anonymous, nerdy virgins can broadcast their snide opinions and suspicions about everyone else’s personalities, sexualities, talents or lack thereof to everyone in the world.
July 2009
6 posts
I’ve got a baby to feed and a wife to appease and if I don’t put food in front of the baby, he won’t shit, then the dogs won’t eat, and that’s just cruel. Dogs can’t get jobs. It’s a crazy world.
Let’s not knock people with questionable tattoos, people who are unemployed and people who have put out bad music, kay? That’s um…I dunno. For some reason, I don’t like that.
Having a meaningful conversation about race in this country is about as easy as talking about eating a wheel of cheese out of an old man’s ass at a Southern Baptist fish fry. There’s gonna be yelling, hurt feelings and lots and lots of judging, no matter how slowly and carefully you tread.
Remember those bricklike nokia phones that we all had when this shit first started happening? You could stuff that thing up a coked out gorilla’s ass and let him party for a week, and then once he finally passed out, you could retrieve that fucker, wipe off the banana smell and go about your business. Those fuckers were indestructible.
I’d love to have a conversation with my mother about how many blowjobs I’m getting/missing out on.
I hate to have to point out the elephant in the room and all but HEY MAN, WHERE’S THE FUCKING FELCHING?
June 2009
11 posts
I just know it’s the small things that really get me by. A little boning, a funny joke, a beer, some dog deciding it likes me, a good song, a delicious burrito…yeah.
I’m totally cool. Y’all are gaybos.
Hey god! Go fuck yourself. Jesus has, HAS in fact sucked my penis. HE begged for it. HE’s gay. Gay as Christmas. The gayest guy I’ve ever met. I’ve never seen anyone take on a stack of schlongs like Jesus.
Nothing irritates me more than the smug douchebags who go out of their way to refer to god as “her’. OOOOH! Nice blow for gender politics you dickless turd/manish woman. What the fuck does reclassifying the gender of an already established fictional character get you? Huh? Okay, fine. Fuck it. You know who else is a woman? Darth Vader. See how fucking dumb that is?
There’s no way to suck as many dicks as I do with all those gold flakes stuck in your throat. Toodles!