Rolling Stone Cover / Anthony Weiner's Weiner

  When it comes to Rolling Stone magazine, I stopped reading it when the grunge-era ended. Back in the summer of 93 (at 11 years old), I was a fan of classic rock. And then Stone Temple Pilots came around with "Plush" that it blew me away. I stopped listening to journey and got into the grunge. I begged my family to buy me flannel and grunge CD's as I got into STP, Alice In Chains, The Offspring, Sheryl Crow (god, I wanted to fuck her!) and a few more that I can't think of. 93, 94 and 95, I could fucking watch MTV all day long. I loved grunge! I got a Alice In Chains Dirt t-shirt for Xmas in 94, I wore the shirt twice a week and was often ripped on for that at school.

  Rolling Stone magazine was something I would read to get info on my favorite bands at the time. Would love reading about STP, AIC, Soundgarden, lots more, while bashing the bands I hated, calling them gaywods. One of them I hated at first was Collective Soul, I hated "Shine", but after a while they got onto to me, and when their song Gel got with the Jerky Boys movie, they gained my respect. But another thing that Rolling Stone did that I hated was the political shit they would input. I remember getting my grungy paws onto a Rolling Stone somewhere in that era, and there was an article about Global Warming. It's a fucking music magazine, FUCK global warming! I wanna see that pic of Sheryl Crow wearing a white blouse so I can enjoy the fun of masturbating to it (I did have a crush on Sheryl Crow, as said again).

  But after the grunge era passed us by and Mike Judge ended Beavis and Butthead for the happier King of The Hill (not a serious fan of), I stopped reading Rolling Stone. We went to the end of the grunge era to the start of the boy band era, and I wasn't a fan of the Backstreet Boys. I last time I read a Rolling Stone was when Joey Ramone died and on the cover was Destiny's Child, they were pushing Destiny's Child the magazine opposed to Joey Ramone's passing, so I imagined Beyonce's Father (then the manager) must of ponied up the cash to put his skanky daughter on the cover, opposed to a dead punk legend.

I thought this would be better, stolen from Philly.com

I guess even since I dropped Rolling Stone altogether, from what I have been told, RS sure has gone political a little more. It's interesting to see that the folks of Rolling Stone was able to borrow the living Boston bomber, give him a makeover, and now, he's on the cover of a Rolling Stone.

It's good that people are giving Rolling Stone shit on their Facebook. I wanted to put up a picture of a prolapsed anus, but RS restricts pics (probably stopped when the shit storm went their way). It's interesting to see real-time complaints on a web page (couldn't do that in 93-95, all you can do is write a letter and hope for the 1 in 1,000,000,000 chance that your letter will be put up on their mailbox issue. I wrote two letters to Metal Maniacs (RIP 2009, wah!) and those didn't get on the mail section.

And it's also good that most retailers in Boston and New England are pissed off about it too. But according to an article I read, RS is highly-based on subscribers. So, quite a few will say fuck you to Rolling Stone.

But in the end, Rolling Stone will continue on. they won't go bust on putting the bomber on the cover of the Rolling Stone. They will continue with articles about Global Warming and how the Republicans are fucking up the world (I'm a Moderate, so shut up bitch), they will take loads of money from a pop star to put her on the cover, even if an old rockstar who was big in the 70s or 80s or both finally kicks the bucket. So, say if Bob Seger dies and Carly Rae Jepsen shits out another hit and her label gives loads of cash to Rolling Stone, don't expect an old photo of Bob Seger with his birth year and death year with loads of info and interviews from the people who knew him, expect Carly Rae Jepsen with a written article of blatant ass-kissing.

With that scenario mentioned, I wonder if the end of the grunge era has got to me. Sounds like it does.

----------------------------

Now, with the second mention....

I'm fucking tired, I gotta work 12 hours with a wacky fucker. So, to make things simple and short. Mr. Weiner surely has a sex addiction and his wife looking to move on with him (opposed to without) does suggest to me that perhaps she doesn't want to be go down a level of two while dealing with the divorce (IE, leaving Mr. Weiner's house to stay with her parents). Just a guess.

It isn't the first time that Mr. Weiner has done bad with showing his weiner to them womanz. But, a woman who respects herself would fucking run away from that after strike one (shitty analogy).

Just as much as a woman who respects herself would not go to bed with me, unless she's drunk and we bang. Then she wakes up the next morning and says, "Oh my gawd, I had sex with one of my son's ugly friends?"

Robbee loves cougars.

A woman whose crazy fucks me and asks for more, I bet Ms. Weiner would be one of them.

"We suspend our disbelief
And we are not alone."

-Rush, Mystic Rhythms 1985

Putting the pieces together while travelling to 1997.

On Friday, 12th of July in 2013, I was transported back to the 1990's say, 1997? Okay, that is a fucked up way to start a blog posting. People are running away now from this blog, citing that I'm a crazy person. Boy, did I make the people who seriously believe in time travel very angry.

Thanks to the folks at Hatchy's in Utica, MI (The big owners of this bar are the Hatcher brothers who have previously played in the NHL), myself, Hollywood Allan, long-time pal Jason and my new friend Amy went back into the 90s with this cover band of the said decade Marc Summerz and the Double Darez.

Their first set was some of our 90's alternative faves, including Gin Blossoms' Hey Jealously. The second set was the pop hits, they even did Britney Spears' big hit and I actually enjoyed it better than the original, however, nobody was on the dance floor for Hanson's MmmBop. Not to say that this band did a bad job of it, but I can say that reminded me of how annoying that song was, and it seemed that most people agreed. Their third set was at random, but that I could remember that most of the songs were from the early 90s, including Biz Markie's big hit, and they did 1989 with "Love Shack."

Fred Schinder (did I speel his last name rite) creeps me out. He looks like a pedophile (I can see some angry B-52s fans commenting: "How do you know what a pedophile looks like, huh fag?" or perhaps, "What, did some guy who looked like Fred Schinder molest you?").

Going back to 08, I was a boring mofo and would rarely do things like hitting up a 90's party. Shit, even in 10 (2010) I wouldn't do much of this. But I was on the dance floor, dancing like shit but able to convince a few girls to dance with me. My friend Jason had also danced as well, but like myself, he got denied quite a few times. I guess even good-looking guys like Jay (unlike ugly fuckers like me) get told to fuck off, even by large fatties who think their shit doesn't stink. Boy, I kinda wished MS and the DD's would go to 2004 and do Outkast's "Roses." Perhaps, I'll ask them next time.

After it was all said and done, I drove Hollywood home. And Jay and Amy went their way, with Jay later not getting any sleep and going to work the next morning. I had saw Jay the next day (today as I'm writing this) and he was up for over 32 hours at that time. Fuckin' Hardcore!

Sadly, their was some bad news to this. Since Jason and Amy work at my aunt's restaurant, one of our co-workers told us the news that one of her friends was shot while leaving Comerica Park (home of the Detroit Tigers) and is in critical condition. There was no further details beyond that, and I do hope for the best. That's sad.

It's been a thought lately when a fun day turns to a day of wonder when you hear of news like this, even if you don't know who that person is.


[Later that day...]

No word yet about that unfortunate incident. All one could do is wait and hope for good news.

Going on, I promised myself a movie saturday and I bought TMNT II from Amazon Instant Video, I just got done watching TMNT I and taking a little break while writing this entry into this stupid-assed blog. Yes, my 31-year-old self is watching the TMNT's.

The scene with Splinter and Raphael had reminded me of the 'enemy' of anger. Yes, although Splinter gets a little dramatic about his speech to Raphael (boy, this is getting strange here), it remind me of the art of pointless thinking. I'm the god-damn king of pointless thinking. My head goes to certain places I wish it never would go.

Back in the day, I would be afraid to mention that I have the trouble of dealing with pointless thinking and the anger and frustration that grows along with it while so. The late George Carlin with his HBO special 'Life Is Worth Losing' about how he is a vessel and doesn't ask for these strange thoughts he gets in his head. Even that when it came out in 05 wouldn't push me into confessing.

But, I confess, these silly and odd thoughts get into my head. They come in all shapes and sizes and at random times. At times where I'm dancing and bumping and grinding at a bar, while working on the assembly line trying to keep the line moving with some creepy fuck trying to get my attention (STALKER!!!), while watching a vintage baseball game on a warm Sunday, while taking a long bike ride, while cruising on Lakeshore Drive in the Grosse Pointes while listening to Toto's 'Africa.'

It will always be there.

I'll close with some news from our world:
Zimmerman was found not guilty: http://www.usatoday.com/story/news/nation/2013/07/13/george-zimmerman-found-not-guilty/2514163/
And also, our big Tigers pitcher Max Scherzer picked up his first loss, leaving him at 13-1 (shit happens): http://detroit.cbslocal.com/2013/07/13/scherzer-goes-to-13-1-with-loss-to-rangers/

I hope for good news about our friend of a friend.

And a quote from Splinter:
"You will listen now. My Master Yoshi's first rule was "Possess the right thinking." Only then can one receive the gifts of strength, knowledge, and peace. I have tried to channel your anger, Raphael, but more remains. Anger clouds the mind. Turned inward it is an unconquerable enemy. You are unique among your brothers, for you choose to face this enemy alone. But as you face it, do not forget them, and do not forget me. I am here, my son. "

You done FOOKED up.

I know it's been a while but I've been lazy to tell stories. So, to keep things fresh, unless you haven't seen. This has something to do with the Asiana flight that crashed. These pilots have some interesting names:

 



I think I'll be ordering chinese at the Fuk Yue resturant.

~ Bang Ding Ow? Fucking funny.